keeping it vaguely imaginary (_afterism) wrote,
keeping it vaguely imaginary
_afterism

i'm done now, yes.


Composition
Hetalia; Germany/Austria; NC-17
written for the kink meme - the request wanted Austria forcing young!Germany to top him, so Germany's physically around 16 and this is set in a vague, unimportant-to-the-plot AU where he grows up in Austria's house.


Germany knew he shouldn't be watching. He knew that this was something private and personal and that peering through a crack in the door was wrong, but. Well. It had been the noises that made him look in the first place, the high, keening little whimpers that sounded so foreign and strange that he had to look - and, oh, now he couldn't look away from him. Austria. Usually so smart and composed and proper but now he had his cock in one hand, back arched and stripped apart from the shirt falling off his shoulders, kneeling on the bed and thrusting into his own grip, flushed and shamelessly open.

He was going to stop watching. Any second now, he would be able to turn and walk away and forget all that he just saw and--

"Germany," Austria called, breathless, and it took Germany a moment to realise that Austria had stopped moving and was looking straight at him. He thought about running away, about the ground swallowing him up and every denial possible but Austria had taught him better than that. He knew his cheeks were burning, and he opened the door a little wider so he could take one step in and stare at the floor (anywhere other than the bed, please).

"I'm sorry," he started, his voice quiet but it carried in the silence. He could hear the rustle of the sheets as Austria shifted.

"Come here, Germany," Austria commanded, and he knew better than to disobey. He walked with measured steps over to the bed, his head still bowed and so desperately trying not to look, because he knew he wanted something (lonely nights with just his hand and a voice, forbidden and unthinkable but, oh) and if he looked he would want to touch. His hands were clenched by his sides, his gaze fixed on the folds of the covers at the end of the bed. Not looking.

"Germany," Austria said again, and suddenly there was a hand in his line of vision, strong, thin fingers under his chin and pushing up and please, no. He had no choice, no resistance to direct orders and he felt like shaking as Austria tilted his face up, unable to stop himself from raking his eyes over the whole of Austria's body (so smooth and thin and pale, his cock still stiff and red between his legs, all so terribly inviting), and his skin was feverish by the time his face was level with Austria's.

He tried to avert his gaze again, anything to stop Austria from looking at him and seeing all the impure things he so desperately wanted (because he could, of course he could when it was so obvious), but Austria's fingers gripped his chin tighter and wrenched him forward, pulling him off balance enough that he stumbled into the bed, knees bending as he hit it and only Austria's grasp, the unspoken command stopped him from falling completely.

He knew he was hard, could feel the tip rubbing uncomfortably against the rough material of his trousers and he was more ashamed of that than Austria having caught him peeping. But, when he steeled himself to look up and meet Austria's gaze (he blushed even fiercer when he realised he had been tracing the lines of his hips) he saw Austria's parted lips, eyes half-mast, looking back at him with something like, maybe--

"Touch me," Austria said, and his voice was steady but laced with something else, and his fingers slipped down to brush along Germany's arm, skim over his wrist and take his hand to guide it to his cock, wrapping Germany's fingers around it and pulling the rest of him close so Germany was kneeling on the bed in front of him.

Germany stared down at his hand like it was something alien, the feel of warm velvety skin both so familiar and utterly exotic, and he dragged his fingers upwards in one slow, experimental movement before Austria inhaled sharply and caught his other hand to pull him even closer, enough that Germany could feel his own fingers brush against his shirt when he moved his hand.

Austria sighed, smooth and melodious as an instrument, delicate and inviting and his fingers were warm against Germany's wrist as he tucked his hand behind him and manoeuvred Germany's fingers so they brushed down his cleft, lower until they caught on puckered muscle and Austria showed Germany how to touch him, how to rub his fingertips lightly around the edge before carefully pushing one finger in (he was slick and oily, obviously prepared but Germany was too focused on everything else to notice) and Austria bucked into Germany's hand.

"Another finger," Austria demanded, cheek to cheek and hotly whispering the words directly into Germany's ear, and Germany obeyed, fascinated by the way Austria keened and rolled his hips as he crooked and spread his fingers. He had almost forgotten about his own arousal when Austria suddenly palmed his crotch, unexpected pressure that he pushed into with thinking. "Another," Austria hissed, as he unfastened Germany's trousers and tugged them down, allowing his cock to bob up, free and needy.

Germany added another finger without command, thrusting the four digits into Austria with a kind of wary enthusiasm (waiting for the moment where Austria shoves him away and punishes him for being so disgusting, but, please not yet) until Austria reached around to pull his hand away - his fingers remained encircling Germany's wrist as he shifted and lay down on his back, spreading his legs wide so Germany was kneeling between them.

Austria didn't say anything for a moment, waiting, but Germany just stared down at him with wide eyes and flushed cheeks. "Put it in," Austria sighed, bringing his knees up. "Fuck me," he clarified, when Germany still didn't act, and when Germany only hesitantly moved forward so he was hovering over him Austria reached down and took him in hand, tilting his hips up and guiding the head so it was pressing against his hole.

Germany could feel the tight heat waiting against his tip, and the way Austria let his head fall back and his lips part, swollen and kissable, as he started to tentatively push in was all the encouragement he needed to bury himself entirely in Austria, groaning helplessly as the blood heat surged around him. He covered Austria's hips with his hands, holding him gently as he slowly pulled back until just the head in still inside and then pushed back in just as deliberately, heavy breaths as he was enveloped so entirely in the new sensation.

It was intense and strange and wonderful, and Austria was panting beneath him, warm under his fingertips and reaching up so he could grasp Germany's shoulders, pull him down and close and flush together and opening his mouth submissively when Germany kissed him, moaning gently and happily as Germany started to fall into a rhythm of thrusting.

He was not going to last long and Austria seemed just as needy, melodic little sounds as he met every thrust and clutched at his arms, just pleasure and instinct and so fantastically unlike his usual image that Germany plundered his mouth and came with a harsh groan, ending with a few shallow thrusts before slumping forward, heavy on Austria's chest and his head tucked into the crook of his neck.

Austria's cock was still trapped between them, almost painfully hard and desperate for release, but Austria finished himself off with a few tugs and came over both their stomachs with a quiet moan, the feel of Germany's softening cock still in him being all he needed.

He was almost surprised at how his intention had so effortlessly lead to what he had wanted for months, but Germany sighed like a song, moist breath on his skin and Austria stroked his hair, caring and pleased, and it was enough.
Tags: fic, hetalia!
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