APH: Sucker Love (Part 2)
Title: Sucker Love (Part 2)
Author: me!
Rating: R
Characters: Prussia, Canada
Summary: for prompt #47, "every you, every me". Prussia thinks this can't be for real; Canada is scared it is.
Notes: loosely based on Placebo's, "Every You Every Me". Warnings for rough sex, occasional violence and lots of swearing.
Part one here!
Prussia punches hard, when pushed. Canada, scrabbling for purchase against his kitchen counter, arches and pants and swears in a mixture of French and English. Prussia laughs, rocks against him. The only bad thing about being bent over the counter is that he can’t see Prussia’s face, though he can certainly imagine it - the ex-nation’s face twisted in that sneer, expression cocky.
Canada realized, early on, that he has a thing for arrogant, powerful nations - it is no wonder, he thinks, that he has a such a daddy complex.
It’s been three months since he and Prussia started this whole thing - Canada is still not sure what prompted him to ask Prussia of all people, a nation he rarely interacted with. It wasn’t like he couldn’t get violence or sex using the few connections he did have - Holland was more than willing to fool around, and Canada knew that Russia liked a little bit of violence with his sex, or vice-versa. So why Prussia?
Maybe because Canada thought he could understand. He had seen a look in Prussia’s eye - a flash, the way he held himself beside his brother, that made him think, That’s me. That’s me, that’s what I’ll become if I don’t do something, if I don’t show the world that I’m here, I’m me. If I don’t show myself that I’m here.
He is fully aware that he is taking advantage of Prussia, using him as relief. What he is also aware of is that he is growing more and more dependent on Prussia every time they meet, dependent on the way he fucks him, hits him, holds him. The itch that arose only once or twice a month now has Canada twiddling his thumbs every weekend, spending hours weeding the garden out back, going for runs, or doing paperwork that isn’t due until next year, at least.
For now, though, Canada focuses on the feel of the callouses on Prussia’s hands - one hand is on his hip, the other has wrenched the blond nation’s arm behind his back and is pushing it so hard against his spine that the bones in his wrist are screaming in protest. Canada lets out a little yelp that turns into a purr as he feels Prussia’s erection against his thighs.
“Ah - Prussia,” he whimpers.
“Hm?” Prussia sounds out of breath, and lets go of Canada’s hip in favor of roughly fingering him, without any warning. The pain shoots up Canada’s spine, and he loves it. He pushes back, hoping to hit that spot inside him.
“Shit, Prussia...please...fuck me!” he gasps, twisting around to look at him and fuck that smirk just sets him off. He wants to be fucked, and he wants to be fucked now.
He feels Prussia lean down, and when his earlobe is bitten he barely flinches, merely bucks. He can feel Prussia between his legs.
“Beg.” Prussia commands, and Canada snarls.
“What the hell do you think I’m doing?” he asks, wrenches his arm from behind his back and reaches behind him to grab Prussia’s cock. “I swear to God, if you don’t fuck me...”
“You know, that really doesn’t sound like begging to me!” Prussia tells him, and smacks his hand away. “Can’t dredge up some humility, or what?”
“You’re one to talk!” Canada laughs, rutting against Prussia. “I can just do it myself, then.”
“Oh really?” Prussia dislodges his fingers and twists both of Canada’s arms behind his back. “Go ahead, then.”
Canada struggles, smearing his face along the counter. An erratic elbow knocks his toaster onto the floor and Prussia gives a rude laugh.
“Okay, okay!” Canada finally breaks down, pushing himself up on the balls of his feet and wriggling his ass. “Please, please fuck me! I’m begging, see? Prussia!”
There is silence - Canada wriggles a bit more, hoping to entice.
“Say my name.” Prussia says in a low voice.
“I did.” Canada grinds out. “Are you going to fuck me or are we going to have a conversation?”
“No, not that one. The other one.”
Canada freezes, debates the repercussions of such a personal name at such a potentially personal time. “Gilbert.” he finally murmurs. “Gilbert, I’m serious, fuck me.”
Prussia’s name on the younger nation’s lips makes him swell and he leans forward, eagerly, letting go of Canada’s arms in favor of gripping his hips, steering Canada’s ass to line up with his cock.
The sharp, painful pop of Prussia pressing through makes Canada whine, but makes it so much better. Next time, he thinks, he will have to make it so he can see Prussia’s face - it’s less satisfying when he’s being fucked while looking at his kitchen cabinets. They need a new coat of paint and he’s been deliberately putting it off for months.
Prussia’s hand reaches around and squeezes his cock - Canada gasps, arches, coos.
“Harder.” he orders, and Prussia is glad to oblige, stroking him, squeezing him, bringing their hips together until Canada isn’t thinking about his kitchen cabinets anymore. He grips the counter so hard his knuckles are white.
“So tight.” Prussia grunts behind him. “Fuck, Canada - Matt - ”
Canada wants to protest at the use of his name but damn if Prussia isn’t doing great things with his cock, so he lets it slide.
“Harder, harder...” he repeats in a sort of mantra, and behind him Prussia laughs.
“Little slut, aren’t you?” the way his voice dips down sends a delightful shock to Canada’s groin. His fingers are starting to hurt from pressing against the counter.
“Yeah, I am.” he whimpers. “Please...”
Prussia gladly obliges. “Yeah, you young nations are all the same,” he crows, breathing heavy as he slams himself hard against Canada's thighs, the slapping of skin loud in the otherwise silent kitchen. “You’re just begging for my five meters, huh?”
In any other circumstances, Prussia talking about his five meters would cause Canada to burst out laughing. But the authoritative tone that has crept into his voice has Canada hot and whimpering and rutting into his cabinets.
“So good,” he hums breathlessly, grasping for his cock - his hand meets Prussia’s, still wrapped steadily around Canada’s organ, and he doesn’t have the mind to be bothered about it, already riding the wave of an orgasm. Their hands remained joined, Canada’s shaking and Prussia’s still stroking him even after Canada is left panting, holding onto the counter for support.
Prussia is silent, save for a few grunts, but as he pulls out he puts his hand on Canada’s lower back. He doesn’t do anything else, and the warmth from his palm seeps into Canada’s aching spine - the younger nation stills, wondering if the other wants a second round.
What are you doing? Canada feels like asking as Prussia’s thumb brushes gently against his hip. This is not what we agreed on.
Canada is about to say something when Prussia abruptly lifts his hand and smacks Canada across the ass, sending shock waves of pain up his still sensitive body. Canada can only manage a startled ‘ooh’ before Prussia is pulling back.
“See you around, Matt!” Prussia laughs, voice sounding a bit too forced. Canada can only turn, incredulously, and watch Prussia saunter out of the kitchen, toned ass flexing as he walks (and yeah whatever Canada is staring, so what?)
Canada feels that this whole thing has gotten way, way more complicated than he ever would have imagined.
Author: me!
Rating: R
Characters: Prussia, Canada
Summary: for prompt #47, "every you, every me". Prussia thinks this can't be for real; Canada is scared it is.
Notes: loosely based on Placebo's, "Every You Every Me". Warnings for rough sex, occasional violence and lots of swearing.
Part one here!
Prussia punches hard, when pushed. Canada, scrabbling for purchase against his kitchen counter, arches and pants and swears in a mixture of French and English. Prussia laughs, rocks against him. The only bad thing about being bent over the counter is that he can’t see Prussia’s face, though he can certainly imagine it - the ex-nation’s face twisted in that sneer, expression cocky.
Canada realized, early on, that he has a thing for arrogant, powerful nations - it is no wonder, he thinks, that he has a such a daddy complex.
It’s been three months since he and Prussia started this whole thing - Canada is still not sure what prompted him to ask Prussia of all people, a nation he rarely interacted with. It wasn’t like he couldn’t get violence or sex using the few connections he did have - Holland was more than willing to fool around, and Canada knew that Russia liked a little bit of violence with his sex, or vice-versa. So why Prussia?
Maybe because Canada thought he could understand. He had seen a look in Prussia’s eye - a flash, the way he held himself beside his brother, that made him think, That’s me. That’s me, that’s what I’ll become if I don’t do something, if I don’t show the world that I’m here, I’m me. If I don’t show myself that I’m here.
He is fully aware that he is taking advantage of Prussia, using him as relief. What he is also aware of is that he is growing more and more dependent on Prussia every time they meet, dependent on the way he fucks him, hits him, holds him. The itch that arose only once or twice a month now has Canada twiddling his thumbs every weekend, spending hours weeding the garden out back, going for runs, or doing paperwork that isn’t due until next year, at least.
For now, though, Canada focuses on the feel of the callouses on Prussia’s hands - one hand is on his hip, the other has wrenched the blond nation’s arm behind his back and is pushing it so hard against his spine that the bones in his wrist are screaming in protest. Canada lets out a little yelp that turns into a purr as he feels Prussia’s erection against his thighs.
“Ah - Prussia,” he whimpers.
“Hm?” Prussia sounds out of breath, and lets go of Canada’s hip in favor of roughly fingering him, without any warning. The pain shoots up Canada’s spine, and he loves it. He pushes back, hoping to hit that spot inside him.
“Shit, Prussia...please...fuck me!” he gasps, twisting around to look at him and fuck that smirk just sets him off. He wants to be fucked, and he wants to be fucked now.
He feels Prussia lean down, and when his earlobe is bitten he barely flinches, merely bucks. He can feel Prussia between his legs.
“Beg.” Prussia commands, and Canada snarls.
“What the hell do you think I’m doing?” he asks, wrenches his arm from behind his back and reaches behind him to grab Prussia’s cock. “I swear to God, if you don’t fuck me...”
“You know, that really doesn’t sound like begging to me!” Prussia tells him, and smacks his hand away. “Can’t dredge up some humility, or what?”
“You’re one to talk!” Canada laughs, rutting against Prussia. “I can just do it myself, then.”
“Oh really?” Prussia dislodges his fingers and twists both of Canada’s arms behind his back. “Go ahead, then.”
Canada struggles, smearing his face along the counter. An erratic elbow knocks his toaster onto the floor and Prussia gives a rude laugh.
“Okay, okay!” Canada finally breaks down, pushing himself up on the balls of his feet and wriggling his ass. “Please, please fuck me! I’m begging, see? Prussia!”
There is silence - Canada wriggles a bit more, hoping to entice.
“Say my name.” Prussia says in a low voice.
“I did.” Canada grinds out. “Are you going to fuck me or are we going to have a conversation?”
“No, not that one. The other one.”
Canada freezes, debates the repercussions of such a personal name at such a potentially personal time. “Gilbert.” he finally murmurs. “Gilbert, I’m serious, fuck me.”
Prussia’s name on the younger nation’s lips makes him swell and he leans forward, eagerly, letting go of Canada’s arms in favor of gripping his hips, steering Canada’s ass to line up with his cock.
The sharp, painful pop of Prussia pressing through makes Canada whine, but makes it so much better. Next time, he thinks, he will have to make it so he can see Prussia’s face - it’s less satisfying when he’s being fucked while looking at his kitchen cabinets. They need a new coat of paint and he’s been deliberately putting it off for months.
Prussia’s hand reaches around and squeezes his cock - Canada gasps, arches, coos.
“Harder.” he orders, and Prussia is glad to oblige, stroking him, squeezing him, bringing their hips together until Canada isn’t thinking about his kitchen cabinets anymore. He grips the counter so hard his knuckles are white.
“So tight.” Prussia grunts behind him. “Fuck, Canada - Matt - ”
Canada wants to protest at the use of his name but damn if Prussia isn’t doing great things with his cock, so he lets it slide.
“Harder, harder...” he repeats in a sort of mantra, and behind him Prussia laughs.
“Little slut, aren’t you?” the way his voice dips down sends a delightful shock to Canada’s groin. His fingers are starting to hurt from pressing against the counter.
“Yeah, I am.” he whimpers. “Please...”
Prussia gladly obliges. “Yeah, you young nations are all the same,” he crows, breathing heavy as he slams himself hard against Canada's thighs, the slapping of skin loud in the otherwise silent kitchen. “You’re just begging for my five meters, huh?”
In any other circumstances, Prussia talking about his five meters would cause Canada to burst out laughing. But the authoritative tone that has crept into his voice has Canada hot and whimpering and rutting into his cabinets.
“So good,” he hums breathlessly, grasping for his cock - his hand meets Prussia’s, still wrapped steadily around Canada’s organ, and he doesn’t have the mind to be bothered about it, already riding the wave of an orgasm. Their hands remained joined, Canada’s shaking and Prussia’s still stroking him even after Canada is left panting, holding onto the counter for support.
Prussia is silent, save for a few grunts, but as he pulls out he puts his hand on Canada’s lower back. He doesn’t do anything else, and the warmth from his palm seeps into Canada’s aching spine - the younger nation stills, wondering if the other wants a second round.
What are you doing? Canada feels like asking as Prussia’s thumb brushes gently against his hip. This is not what we agreed on.
Canada is about to say something when Prussia abruptly lifts his hand and smacks Canada across the ass, sending shock waves of pain up his still sensitive body. Canada can only manage a startled ‘ooh’ before Prussia is pulling back.
“See you around, Matt!” Prussia laughs, voice sounding a bit too forced. Canada can only turn, incredulously, and watch Prussia saunter out of the kitchen, toned ass flexing as he walks (and yeah whatever Canada is staring, so what?)
Canada feels that this whole thing has gotten way, way more complicated than he ever would have imagined.