So, ha, Yaaa. This is just a little story of three friends spending quality time with eachother, when a little pair of eyes wanders to close...
Not usually a fan of these three messing around, but, ah, there might be a plot twist to this. :) Who know. Comment on what you think.
Oh, and HRE (Holy Roman Empire) is treated like a small Germany in this, just so we are clear, and as such, his name is Ludwig. :)
Hope you guys enjoy! OH! And if you're RusAme fans, then check out my other story! ;)
Francis was a beautiful, picturesque player in his skinny jeans and simple dark T shirt, small retro headphones gently peeking from the tight wave of his hair as he leaned forward on his bed, azure eyes closed against the world in light contemplation, his lips moving with precision to whatever beautiful hard rock song was blaring at the end of his ear buds. A few of his golden bangs were falling loose as he gave a nod to the guitar solo, the lyrics speeding up as he licked his lips in a slow, biding way, and to each expression on his face, Ludwig could see hate and fear, love and ecstasy.
A fading mark was tattooed softly against his neck, some tender fangs had left a pretty bite lined in a clean bruise, something that was covered up with an easy hair flip, but as he rested his head back, the assault was in plain sight, looking like some beautiful sin against his ivory skin. Everything about him was pre-calculated and magnificent in his tastes, from the rise with each breath to the stroke of every finger, France was colored predestine and his little lapse was completed as his simple smile spread into a comical smirk.
Antonio was leaned against him, the two back to back as they shared ear buds, listening to the same steady beat. He contrasted his best friend well, with smooth sweetening bangs, something that reminded him of a sweet mix of chocolate and caramel. His own eyes were open, but still blind to the world, some deeper force twisting behind his irises as they danced to the song, his hands wrapped around a glass of Cheri, the ice clinking rhythmically as the two jammed away, not one care shared between their teenage minds. The Spaniard's dark red T reminded Germany of the color of Dr. Pepper cans, the thought amusing to him as he watched his hand languidly guide a cigarette up to his pursed smile. Antonio drew in a long breath and sighed, eyes closing slowly as he savored the flavor, the smoke forming a tragic swirl as it mingled and mixed with the heavy incense that hung with a thick hazy effect about the room.
Dragon's blood and fresh cloves as well as Tag was heavily laid on the air and Ludwig was getting a little light headed from it all. He had curiously wandered to find his older brother to ask him about going over to a friend's house, but as she found the boys, Holy Rome just couldn't quite find the courage to move them. And where was his brother?
His tiny eyes wandered around the darkened room, whose curtains were drawn against the mid noon sun, deep shadows pulsing and ruffling as the three of them hung leisurely about, Gilbert lighting a new stick of incense, his lips pursed sweetly together as he blew out the kindling flame, smoke rising as he set it in the pewter holder, so meticulous and careful as he did so, watching it with fascination as the gray film rose like a curling, withered snake, palpable and misty as it slithered toward the ceiling.
The Prussian sat back down on the bed, crimson eyes looking back and forth between the other two men, licking his lips as he drew Spain back by his collar, the other tipping his head back looking into those eyes fearlessly, a sort of joking smile curling his lips, giving Ludwig a shiver as he watched through the little slit of the open door.
Antonio took one more drink from the glass and handed it to Francis who took it generously, tipping it back to finish the rest of the liquid, his Adam's apple bobbing slowly as he drank. He seemed not to notice Prussia pressing Spain into a kiss, his lips moving against his slowly, hands brought up to keep Spain's head tipped back, never breaking their kiss as he lost his ear bud.
Ludwig knew he shouldn't be watching, the entire thing seemed wrong, terribly wrong as he watched his brother draw away, sated eyes almost glowing as he opened his mouth, almost like he wanted to speak, but Spain pressed forward, his tongue trailing him as they sealed their lips together again, hungry, deep kisses giving way to heavy moans and pleasurable sighs, awakening France from whatever his thoughts were as he listened to his music.
"Hey, hey, careful now," Careful fingers slipped the fabric of Prussia's T shirt down, his shoulder bare and creamy as France bent his lips to give them a kiss, his white teeth flashing as he smiled mischievously, biting softly on the tender crook of Prussia's neck, Gilbert moaning into his kiss with Spain as he felt the hot pain of nipping teeth. He pulled back from Spain and turned to Francis, a laugh hidden deep in his chest as he rose on his knees, a flame dancing in his candied cherry eyes, shifting as he straddled his friend's lap powerfully, Spain sitting up now and turning with the action, with tanned hands grabbing for Gil's button up shirt, slight snapping sounds lighting up the room as he popped the steel buttons, his shirt loose and open now as Francis made his move.
'W-what?' Ludwig wanted to look away, but his eyes couldn't comprehend anything, his feet were glued to the floor, his mind was spinning at the spectacle. 'B-b-brother is...he's...'
Prussia was trapped between Spain and France, landlocked as the two men set to steady work of him, with lips on his broad shoulders and neck, hands cupping his burning cheeks and mussing his silvering hair. Gilbert thought he might die in this moment if these two didn't quit, finally nipping back as he felt Francis ask for permission, that tongue of his lapping at his lips as Spain tried to get him to moan, cry out, anything to open his mouth.
"Gentle, Prussia," he was bid as the blonde ran manicured nails sharply down his chest, gaining a tiny gasp of pain.
"Be good to us," came a joking, light hearted Spanish accent, its owner's hands fussing with the button on Gilbert's pants, brown eyes gentle and caressing, thick, tight curls mixing with the silvery ones of Prussia's as he nuzzled up against his back, tongue flicking against the top vertebra as he eased Prussia's shirt down.
"Hey, Hey!" Prussia's hands pushed against Francis' as the blonde tried to grab hold of him, Antonio's finding France's unclipped belt and pulled, the leather sliding easily into his hand as Francis fell helplessly back into the mound of pillows, Antonio chuckling as Prussia pinned Francis there, the Spaniard picking up the glass and took a piece of ice, barely having time to swallow it as France pulled him back onto the bed in his scuffle with Prussia, the three men a flutter of arms and legs, tongues and hands, lips and eyes, sighs and laughs as they all tumbled, fighting for the top, asking, begging, pleading for more.
Prussia was lip locked with someone, Spain, it had to be Spain, he tasted like spices, like corn peppers and salsa, as he felt hot, greedy fingertips against his bare skin, burning as he tensed and almost elbowed them away. "Ah, ah, France, stop," he remembered the sensation from once before, when Francis had dipped those slender fingers in fresh candle wax and drug them over his skin. They let red burns for hours, and stung a little too good to actually be bad.
"You like that?" came a lustful purr as France touched him again, satisfied with the beautiful arch in Prussia's back as he tensed, the muscles sliding and coursing behind smooth skin, the reddening marks like tiny finger prints fading on the milk white of his skin.
"What do you want?" he sighed breathlessly as he felt France blow sweetly on the drying wax, cooling the wound so wonderfully, Prussia couldn't help but bite his lip as France took another breath and did it again.
"I want you crying and screaming my name," came the lusty response, as he nipped impatiently, Spain lacing his hands through Prussia's locks and bid him to come back.
Then, just as Holy Rome saw Spain tip his head back, crying out a little as Prussia bit a sensitive cluster of nerves below his heated skin, eyes glancing toward Ludwig's way through smiling, darkening lashes.
"Oh, little one, what brings you here?" Came the breathy whisper, the Prussian pulling sharply back as he saw his little brother standing in the door way, eyes wide, little hands shaking as they held to the door frame. France gave up as he saw the little boy, trying to hide a laugh as Prussia's face burnt with a fervid blush, untangling himself from them as he marched toward Holy Rome, who looked practically scared out of his precious mind.
"Ludwig, what the hell? I told you to stay out!" Prussia's sentences quipped and raw, his breath still catching as he lead his baby brother down the hall, swallowing hard to get the taste of roses and picante out of his mouth.
"I-I...I was just gonna ask to go to play with Italy. I'm sorry, I didn't meant to...I thought I was only supposed to leave you alone if Canada was over..." there was a clear resonating innocence in little Holy Rome's voice, Prussia quickly turning back to his brother, kneeling to his level with stern, deep eyes.
"Don't you ever, I mean EVER mention this to anyone. You got that? Not Canada, not Italy, NO ONE." there wasn't a yell or scream to the voice, just something hardened, tampered, and hurt as Prussia grabbed the boys shoulders, making the blonde look him in the eye. "Do you understand?"
There was a faint nod as Ludwig bit his lip, shaking at the pure force in his brother's show of strength, not quite understanding everything that Prussia was mentioning.
"Ludwig, you promise me. Canada won't know." The crimson eyes softened as his facade cracked a little, the rush of hormones dying down, the heat of play ebbing back as he caught his little brother's downcast gaze again, though Holy Rome nodded this time, looking back to those eyes were like smouldering flames, like a child afraid to be caught doing something bad.
"Yes sir," came the whisper as Prussia picked up the child and held him to his chest, the only rememberence of their father who had dided years ago. There was a fear nagging and nipping at Prussia as he made his way outside, toward Austria's house where Little Italy could usually be found sweeping or painting.
Sure enough, the tiny maid was by the grape tressle, picking the plump fruit from the vine and popping a few of them in his smiling mouth. His chubby fingers were stained with the ripe juices and Holy Rome quickly jumped from Prussia's grasp to meet his friend, Italy squeeling with joy as he saw the blonde coming his way, holding out his apron where more grapes had been piled.
The two children shared fruit, and smiles, Ludwig seemingly forgetting the scene he had witnessed as he lovingly hugged the Italian, giving a chaste kiss on his cheek as the friends giggled together.
'I envy that...' The Prussian mused as he watched the children play, so innocent and carefree. 'Love that just is, that isn't written in bloody kisses or bite marks, scratches down your back and lust in lying eyes. What it would be to be innocent again.' the sun shone bright on him as he turned back home, thoughts twisting in him as dark feelings settled in the pit of his stomach. He swallowed tears, thick, heavy, fat tears, and felt a tremble on his lips as he remembered the blonde boy who held all of his little heart in the palms of soft hands, and smiled like a sunrise and laughed like church bells. 'If he knew...surly, I'd be damned to hell. Because making such an angel cry must be a sin, no?' he grabbed a pin from a cup holder and marked an X on his calender, seeing that there were just two more days left until his and Matthew's one year anniversery.
Awww. Don't you hate when children ruin a good threeway?
And France is so kinky, I'm not sure where he found the patience to last this long without actually taking Prussia there and just ravishing him, but its good that he did, or poor HRE would be compleatly scarred!
BTW, there might be a sequal...if you guys ask for it. :)