A knock came at the door. The dogs barked loudly. Holding his aching head, Prussia rose to answer it, his white hair rumpled from his sleep on his bruder's couch. "Hallo?" he asked while throwing his bark jacket loosely around his bare shoulders.
"Open the damn door!" Gilbert sighed.
"What do you want, commie?"
Russia's voice floated through the locked door. "I need to see Ludwig."
"Germany is not at home."
"East! I know full well Ludwig is home. Lying to me will just make me angry."
"Then get angry you fucking idiot. Ludwig. Is. Not. At. Home. Period. And you don't scare me." Still, Gilbert's hand shook slightly on the doorknob.
"I have to see him."
Furious, Gilbert tore the door open, blocking any entry Ivan had into the room. Ivan glanced over Gilbert's shoulder. "He's not here!"
"Черт! You lie!" Gilbert's self-satisfied smile faded.
He grabbed Russia by the throat, burying his knee into the Russian's stomach. He doubled over and fell to the ground, pulling Gilbert on top of him. They lay on the ground outside the doorway, Prussia kneeling on Ivan with his hands around the other man's throat and his knees on Russia's wrists. "You fucking commie! Do whatever you wish in your own country, but here, in mein bruder's house, you will watch what you say about me!"
Ivan simply smiled up at him. "Of course, Now, you wouldn't mind if I looked around, perhaps? Simply to satisfy my own curiosity, da?"
Gilbert's tolerance wore thin. But, before he could move, Ivan whipped out from beneath him and delivered a hard punch to his right temple. Gilbert didn't flinch, although he saw stars; he was used to such abuse. He stood and kicked the larger man in the face, following up with a punch to Ivan's jaw.
Ivan grabbed Gilbert by the wrist and spun his arm painfully behind him. He leaned forward and whispered in the albino's ear, "Your 'bruder' may own this house, but I will still not be defied by a faded country such as yourself, da?" Ivan pulled up harder on Gilbert's arm, threatening to break it. "Now, kindly lead me around your brother's house." Pushing Prussia in front of him, Ivan toured the house.
Prussia dove quickly down, driving his foot back into Ivan's groin. Ivan released his arm and stumbled back with a small moan. "Listen, commie, I told the truth. You've seen for yourself. Now leave!" Gilbert pointed to the door.
Ivan shook his head, smiling. "No, little one. I will not leave. I must see your brother when he gets home, da?" Ivan lay out on Germany's bed.
Gilbert pulled him off the covers. "Are you insane?" he whispered fiercely.
"A little"
"If West comes home and sees even one thing out of place, he will panic. Are you trying to kill him? And me?"
"Well now. If you died, would that be such a tragedy, Gilbert?" Russia gave a cold smile, colder than the winters at his home.
"I'm just here to watch the dogs. If Ludwig finds out you've been touching his stuff, you will die. No matter whether you are Russia or Sealand or anyone else, Ludwig will kill you."
Ivan smiled, warmer this time, though just as cruel. "Then, I shall have to touch something that does not belong to him."
"You are in mein bruder's house. Everything belongs to him."
"You must be lonely, da?" Russia practically cooed. Gilbert stared at him. Surely this man did not think what Gilbert thought he thought.
"You Germans, you always keep it so warm, da? Let's cool things off." Russia turned the thermostat down to twenty-eight degrees.
He walked over to the windows and opened them; allowing snow to fall into Germany's neatly ordered room. Gilbert stepped forward to stop him. If West found out…
That would prove his fatal mistake. Or perhaps his best move. Prussia still couldn't decide. As soon as he stepped forward, Ivan grabbed him around the waist and threw him onto the bed. "Relax. It will feel much warmer." Already, Gilbert had begun to shiver. Wearing nothing but his boxers and the jacket he had thrown on, he had little protection against the snow that fell and blended in with his hair.
"Ivan…" Prussia managed to say, before Russia's lips met his. Wind-chapped and roughened, Ivan's lips were surprisingly warm despite the cold room, and his kiss passionate. Prussia could not help but kiss back. Russia's mouth opened slightly, his tongue teasing the backside of Gilbert's lips and running along his teeth before finally meeting his tongue. The tongues chased each other around the two connected mouths for awhile until Prussia gently bit the edge of Ivan's tongue and Ivan withdrew slightly.
With an uncharacteristic gentleness, Prussia pulled himself up and gently nipped Ivan's bottom lip. He then bent his head lower until it rested between Russia's thighs. Slowly, Prussia pulled off Russia's pants, using his teeth and nothing more. Russia's excitement showed clearly, his striking manhood standing stiff and erect. He mimicked the move on Prussia's pants, running his tongue down Gilbert's chest until he took Prussia into his mouth.
His tongue played around for awhile, licking and sucking and humming. Prussia's hands ran through the man's sunflower locks, almost refusing to believe than one of his worst enemies could do this and so gently as well!
Russia began to suck and suck until Prussia could almost bear the excitement no longer. Then, Russia released him with one last caress of his tongue. Prussia stood up off the bed. Ivan glanced at him, worried he would leave.
Prussia knelt down between Ivan's legs, placing the Russian's crotch directly in front of his face. He rubbed Russia's cock between his fingers. The cold began to get to them both, causing them to become stiffer and closer together. Prussia began to stroke Russia's cock with his tongue and Russia moved back, away from East.
He smiled invitingly. "Come up here, da?" They lay head to tail on each other's naked form, both sucking, caressing, and sometimes nipping gently at the other one's manhood. They lay there for awhile, until Prussia became bored. He moved restlessly off of Russia and lay on his stomach. His face lay close enough to Russia's to feel the hair that fell into Ivan's eyes.
"Is something wrong, comrade?" Russia asked him, each word turning into a light kiss.
Prussia shook his head, passionately thrusting his tongue into Russia's mouth and wrapping his legs around his comrade. Ivan did the same. They became so entangled they could not tell whose leg belonged to whom, or whose tongue.
Russia pulled back first, laying Gilbert gently on his stomach and blindfolding him. Ivan's tongue began to work systematically in Prussia's ass. Gilbert let out a moan of pleasure. Russia guided his manhood into Prussia and thrust with a comforting, yet unrelenting, passion.
Prussia bit down on the pillow to keep from screaming aloud. Surely this man would kill him with pleasure. Prussia's back arched against Russia, feeling his cool, slick sweat. He shivered, whether with pleasure or cold he did not know. All he knew was the pleasure that screamed throughout his body.
They switched positions after some time and a few zealous kisses. Their sweat and blood mingled on the sheets, their salvia mixed in their mouths. 'Certainly this was heaven,' they both too clearly thought. Gilbert thrust strong and regular into Ivan. After a long time, he began to tire.
Ivan sat up; displaying a well-toned body and a full erection without fear and Prussia wrapped his legs around him. Their lips met and, once again, their tongues played tag. Russia gently broke the kiss and whispered into Gilbert's ear, tongue flicking in and out with every word, "Do you having something to drink?"
Gilbert nodded. "In the kitchen."
Not bothering to disentangle themselves, Russia carried Prussia, wrapped around his waist and locked in an ardent kiss, into the kitchen. Together, they drank three bottles of vodka and two glasses of beer before falling back into bed.
Prussia lay, drunk, beneath Russia as Russia gently worked him over with his tongue and dick.
The door opened. "I'm home, bruder!" Germany's voice didn't penetrate the wall of drunken bliss surrounding the two lovers.
"Bruder?" The door to the bedroom opened and Russia found himself flung against the wall. "What the hell are you doing with mein bruder?"
"We're just having fun, da?"
"Fun my ass!" Germany yelled. He's drunk and you took advantage of him! I would never—not in my house—He hates you!" Germany approached Russia and punched him twice in the chest, sending Ivan flying into the carefully lined shelves.
Russia picked himself up and, looking affronted, walked cautiously over to Prussia and gave him a light kiss on the lips. Ludwig sent him through the open window.
"Bruder!" Ludwig shook his older brother.
"Wazzgoinon?" Prussia's voice, heavy with alcohol, came without the man even opening his eyes. Germany shook him harder.
"Are you okay?"
Prussia nodded. "I'm fine." He opened his eyes to see West staring around the room. Prussia knew the signs. He quickly grabbed a paper bag for Germany to hyperventilate into. Gilbert looked around the damaged room. Shelves had fallen and spilled their contents on the floor; the bed had hit the wall violently at times and left huge dents in the wall; blood, sweat, and semen covered the bed and carpet, and left a trail to the kitchen and back; and he, Prussia, was covered with the stuff.
He looked affectionately at his baby brother, almost passed out on the floor. Prussia gently lifted the masculine Germany and placed him on the couch, kissing his forehead softly. "Don't worry, bruder. I'll clean it up."