Authors note: I own nothing! Warning contains language, smexy times and whatever the heck else I decide to add. Prize fic for sparklybutterfly42. The 25 review on my story Sweet Lands of Liberty.
Antonio, Gilbert, and Francis enter the club. It's a Saturday night, and it's almost traditional as Lovino and Matthew follow the trio into the dark, dimly lit building. They make their way to the VIP section, the trio confidently leading the pack of five past one of the three bars and the DJ station. Any one of the five could easily be described the perfect image of appealing, although they wore different styles of clothing. As they strut in, the group monopolizes attention from both sexes.
Antonio's dressed simply, in jeans, a black unbuttoned shirt that ends at the elbows, and a muscle shirt that does absolutely nothing to hide his rather toned abdomen. Lovino's in tight, black jeans, and a dark red t-shirt, a black fedora perched on his head. Gilbert adorns a white v-neck with the symbol of the Prussian flag on the top right, dark blue jeans, and his hair is selectively highlighted in black and red, with a leather jacket. With a white shirt, a Canadian Mounties jacket hanging on his shoulders, ripped jeans, and his round silver glasses, Mattie is the perfect representation of innocence, though he is far from it. Lastly, Francis is in a light blue button-down with sleeves rolled to the elbow, and black jeans.
The Frenchman leads the group through the maze of bodies, as music blares loudly, something with a heavy beat and synthesizers. The club is packed, but the five have an obvious command of the crowd. Even in a place they've never been before – well, most of them – they walk in like they own the place. Once in the VIP section, everyone gets seated, and drinks passed around; simple red wine, no need for anything stronger at the moment. They have all night, after all.
The club is an underground place in downtown New York City; Lovino has been running it for years, but this is the first time any of the others have been inside. The club is, more or less, a hideout for a few less-than-legal business ventures, but tonight, none of that matters. After a particularly rough 'meeting', Lovino all but demanded Antonio take him out dancing. Who's the Spaniard to refuse his favorite Italian? Especially when Lovi suggested taking them to his personal club in the large American city. After the first round of drinks, each went off to their own separate areas of the club. Their personalities – along with those of their partners – are horribly flirtatious. With the exception of Gilbert, they're all countries of love and passion.
This is how this game begins every Saturday – every date night. They go to a different club each week, to dance as sensually and sexual as they please with whomever they please, in an effort to make their respective lovers as jealous as possible. First one to give up and force their partner away from the dance floor pays the bar tab. The biggest crowd under a single nations command by nights' end gets the privilege of daring any one of the others to do anything within reason. The first one drunk pays the inevitable hotel bill.
They're in a questionably legal Italian club in the heart of New York on this night. Lovino had 'business' to take care of earlier, so they decided to stay for the wild night life of New York, and while no one knows exactly what Lovino had been doing, they all agreed it was better not to ask. Lovino is in charge of the Italian mafia, which rules not only in South Italy, but all over the world, though he was once terrified of the mafia as a group. Just don't piss Lovino off, and be glad his blithering younger brother is only vaguely aware of what he does.
As they begin to dance, their evident control of the crowd becomes overwhelmingly obvious, as people slowly gyrate towards them. Matthew's cautiously moving his hips with multiple others who ask to dance with him, a ring of bodies encircling, all wanting to dance with the virgin-esque Canadian. Antonio is a vision of pure passion; you don't dance with him, you watch in awe of him, with the exception of Lovino, who has a similar command on the dance floor. He has a certain expertise you would never guess is due to his skill at classical and sexy dance styles. Gilbert prefers hard rock songs, but will gladly challenge Romano, when the opportunity presents itself. Tonight, the self-proclaimed Prussian's content talking up beautiful women, drinking German beer, and wondering how the hell Antonio's boyfriend has kept this classy joint a secret for so long. Francis- well, what can be said for a sexy Frenchman on the dance floor? He's in his element, always careful to keep his 'canadien charmant' in sight. Those three would inevitably end up participating in a threesome. Again.
As the night progresses, Matthew is the first drunk – big shock there – and Francis is the first to give in and pull Mattie away from his group of dancers, much to their protests. Between him and Gilbert, overprotective is an understatement, especially considering that Matthew practically switches personalities when he ingests alcohol. At some point a tango plays, and Antonio takes his turn twirling Lovino around the dance floor, gathering the biggest crowd yet, by far. Gravitating towards each other, as the music drives them crazy with passion; Antonio reaches out for Lovino and spins him. Without missing a millisecond, Lovino snaps them together, so close that there isn't even room for a cigar paper. Elegantly gliding across the dance floor, they circle each other in a dance of predator and prey. Caught in their private world, oblivious to everything.
But the song ends, and the couple comes back to reality, still worked up from there tango. As they return to the table, they found that Francis and Matthew had been in a similar situation. Gilbert had snuck off earlier, when he discovered Ludwig, his brother, alone at the bar. The remaining couples are sitting around the table, relaxing a bit. Matthew, still in his drunken daze, is curled up on Francis, half asleep. Francis is supporting his boyfriend, absently stroking his hair, careful to avoid his sensitive curl. Antonio and Lovino are seated in a similar fashion, until the DJ makes a grave error.
He blares 'A Little Party Never Killed Nobody' by Fergie.
The world's representatives know what the song does to the trio of older nations. Ever since it had been released, Alfred had banned the playing of it at any get together that held the presence of any single member of the Bad Touch Trio – let alone all three – and the trio quickly added it to their playlist of 'special' songs.
There's a playlist, one that the Bad Touch Trio – as they have dubbed themselves – has been adding to and modifying since the three became friends. This playlist of 'special songs' might as well be a musical aphrodisiac; any one of the songs could practically guarantee their partner would get laid, big time. Matthew snapped awake just in time to see the seductive grin on his partners face. Lovino sent the Canadian a sympathetic look, as he and Antonio took to the dance floor to show how it's done.
"I ain't got time for you, baby. Either you're mine, or you're not." The song dance starts simple enough, Lovino shaking his hips like Matthew had been earlier that night, Antonio simply swaying next to him, waiting for the beat to pick up. He doesn't have to wait long, and soon the duo are twisting and moving like it was the first time they danced together in public.
"A little party never killed nobody, so we gon' dance 'til we drop." The sly, seductive voice echoes throughout the room and Lovino looks straight into Antonio's eyes, returning his bright grin. "A little party never killed nobody, right here, right now's all we got!" Antonio hooks one arm under Lovino's back, dipping him downwards suddenly and jerking him back up at the same pace, leaving Lovino irrevocably breathless. Even after all of these years dancing with him, the asshole can still make me feel like a damned teen girl, Lovino thinks to himself, although he isn't really complaining, secretly loving feeling younger.
"All these diamonds, trips around the world, don't mean a thing if I ain't your girl."
Lovino flicks one foot onto Antonio's shoulder suddenly, spins once, and presses his hands to the older man's shoulders. Lovino pushes him backwards, only to pull him forwards once more. As the chorus repeats, their bodies crash together, hips and chests bumping against one another as the music quickens.
"All we got, all we got, all we got, all we got-" A males voice repeats. Antonio begins jumping to the beat as Lovino pounds his fist up into the air, others soon following suit.
"Glad that you made it, look around. You don't see one person sitting down." The man's voice raps to the beat, as Antonio closes the gap of space between the pair, grasping Lovino and pulling him close. "They got drinks in their hands, and the room's a bust. At the end of the night, maybe you'll find love." Be it from the truth of the lyrics at the moment, or at the action Antonio just made, Lovino groans possessively, shocking Antonio into a grinning stupor, continuing to grind on his boyfriend. As the rapping continues, Lovino starts grinding against the older man, wanting more. Antonio finally gives in and moans softly, making Lovino smirk.
"It don't mean a thing if I give you my heart, if you tear it apart, no, I-I-I-I." The beat slows slightly, and their grinding becomes desperate. Antonio finally catches on, taking control and leading their sensual dance. The dance continues, growing hotter and hotter with each move.
"Just one night's all we got; just one night's all we got…" The guy whispers through the speakers, and Antonio pulls Lovino closer, if possible, the song pounding in their eardrums. Bodies start to blur from their vision, the two trapped in their own world. But at this point, their dance has evolved into mindless grinding, desperate for friction, too much clothes in between their bodies for the proper type of dancing that they wish for.
As the song comes to an end, Lovino leads himself and Antonio to a private room in the back of the club. Their dance wasn't as elegant as their earlier salsa, but Lovino hardly cared. He had discovered early on that the playlist of songs made the trio inexplicably horny, and that new hit had easily made its way onto the list. He – of course – had bribed the DJ to play that song. Lovino has no sooner locked the door when he's kissed passionately by the elder of the two. The kiss is simple, but he's affected anyway, breathing hitched and face reddening slightly.
"So, mi pequeño tomate, tell me; how is it that you managed to keep this place to yourself?" Before Lovino has a chance to answer, Antonio starts to suck at the Italians neck, and Lovino is near melting under the touch.
"Bed, now." Lovino grunts, breath raspy as he nearly growls out the order. Antonio's glance falls to the previously ignored room. Deep red walls – the color of Lovino's shirt, consequently – and black shag carpeting. In the middle, headboard pushed against the wall, sits an enormous bed, a night stand on either side, a green box on the left shelf. Antonio kisses Lovino's throat, traveling down his neck, before biting down fiercely at the corner where Lovino's neck ends and shoulders begin.
Lovino whimpers as he feels the stinging of teeth that's quickly replaced by a talented tongue. Lovino's temperature has spiked upwards, his breaths coming out faster than expected. By now he could see the want and desire in Antonio's green irises, his own eyes half lidded as he stares back. Lovino's body tingles as Antonio leaves fleeting kisses on his neck, and damn it, it's so gentle and warm and rough and passionate that Lovino can barely contain his excitement. He feels Antonio's arm snake around his waist, pulling him into another kiss, chests pressing into one another. They break away from each other panting, lips red and shining from the excess amount of saliva. "Fuck," Romano murmured causing a grin to cross the Spaniard's face.
"Con alegría," Spain groans, taking his lover's lips again, laying him down onto the bed gently with him on top. The weight of both of the males on the same spot causes the mattress to sink and creak.
"So, having fun in my world?" Lovino asks, looking up to his partner. Antonio grins, moving his hand over Lovino's curl, having lost his hat somewhere on the trip to the bed.
"Mi corazón, you have no idea."
Lovino releases a needy moan as he melts under the Spaniard's touch. Antonio lustfully tears off the Italian's shirt, a pleasant growl sounding from his throat as Antonio's finger playfully traces the lines of Lovino's torso, only to be silenced by their lips meeting once again. Antonio sheds his shirt, and Lovino breaks the kiss long enough to tear off the wife beater that's keeping him from his muscular Spaniard. Lovino quickly shimmies out of his jeans, and Antonio follows suit, both left in their underwear, Antonio in dark green briefs, Lovino in crimson plaid boxers.
Antonio sits above Lovino, gazing at his lover as he slowly removes the Italian's boxers, leaving him completely exposed. Lovino traces every scar and muscle on the man's abdomen with his fingers, lost in the moment. He leans in for a kiss, and their tongues fight pointlessly for dominance, a game that Lovino loses. He moans into the kiss. Dio, the things Antonio can do with that damned tongue of his. Once the need for oxygen becomes too great, they break the kiss, licking their now separated lips. Still dazed by the intensity of their make out session, Lovino only barley registered the fact that his partner was saying something.
"Lube?" Antonio whispers cheekily, taking in his flustered boyfriend. Lovino speaks, barely able to form cognitive thought, let alone a full sentence.
"Green box." He replies hoarsely.
Antonio reaches for the box to his left, eyes never leaving Lovino's. Upon finding it, he breaks eye contact for a few seconds, smiling at its contents. "Feeling up for some fun, Lovi?" The Spaniard asks huskily, eyes darkening as he returns his gaze to the Italian. He takes a small, clear tube out of the box, along with a small green vibrator, only as wide as two of his fingers. Lovino shoots his lover a quizzical look, clearly not understanding why Antonio's asking him questions, when he should be pounding him into the mattress, leaving no trace of thought other than his own name.
Antonio coats three fingers in lube. He locates Lovino's entrance, and easily slips one long, calloused finger inside of the Italian's ring of muscles. He moves his finger inside his lover, stretching him out, pulling out whimpers and squeaky cusses from Lovino. Honestly, Lovi probably doesn't need much preparation. Let's face it; they fuck like rabbits in heat, almost every day, but Antonio would sooner die than cause unnecessary pain to his boyfriend. Unless, of course, Lovi asked for it.
After a few moments, Antonio adds a second digit, studying Lovino's features for any sign of discomfort. Upon finding none, he continues stretching his lover. Lovino gasps at the introduction of the second finger, and the pleasure suddenly stops. Lovino is about to whine and complain at the loss, when he feels a foreign object pressing at his entrance. Antonio had coated the small vibrator with lube, and is now pushing the toy into Lovino. Romano opened his mouth, and a moan escaped his lips, twitching as the soft plastic presses through his muscles and into his prostate. Upon hearing the keeling grunt from the Italian, Antonio let the vibrator brush against the bundle of nerves, and turned it on its lowest setting. Lovino's response is immediate, a moan followed by a string of words.
"Antonio! Dio! España, béseme!" Lovino screams, consumed with pleasure, Antonio all too happy to oblige, once again assaulting his lover with affection. Lovino can only hold on to his love in the whirlwind of desire and lust. Antonio abruptly switches the vibrator to its highest setting, shredding Lovino's prostate with complete and utter pleasure. "Antonio, I-I'm close!" Lovino's painfully hard and pre cum is leaking from the tip of his length. Antonio gives his little Italian a smirk.
"Not yet, the night is young, mi amor." He pulls the vibrator out, and looks once again to Lovino. "Sixty-nine?"
"Bastard, anything!" Lovino answers, an almost desperate look gracing his features as he closes his thighs and tries to gain some friction. Upon seeing this, Antonio quickly pulls his thighs apart and moves so his face is level with Lovino's, grinding his seeping length against his lovers. After moaning at the delicious friction created, he says,
"What makes you think you can receive pleasure from anyone but me tonight?"
"Ah! More! Something, anything!" Lovi replies, too far gone to reply with anything coherent. Antonio once again changed positions, but this time, his cock dangles above Lovino's head and the Italian's length is in front of his lips. Lovino quickly takes the length presented into his mouth, lapping at it, sucking slowly, tongue tracing the veins and teasing the slit. Antonio is lost in the sensation for a few moments, before remembering the task at hand. He envelops Lovino's length into his mouth, the warmth of the member and the sticky, salty-yet-sweet flavor of Lovi's pre cum fogging his thoughts.
After a short time, Antonio and Lovino are close to the edge, both lengths dripping into their lovers mouths, respectively. Antonio changes positions again, as Lovino is flipped onto his stomach. Both desperate for completion, Antonio quickly finishes preparing Lovino, and lubes his own length generously, the cold goop warming on his heated member. He begins sheathing himself into his lover slowly. Neither Lovino nor Antonio are on the small size, so Antonio takes his time, finishing the task of stretching the Italian for the large intake.
After a few seconds, Antonio is half way in. Not wanting to wait, Antonio heaves Lovino upright onto his lap, chest to back, and enters his Italian fully, stroking Lovino's cock for a distraction from the small amount of pain. Once inside, he stops, waiting for his lover to get used to the girth of his length. Moments later Lovino turns his head and kisses Antonio. Taking this as an okay to keep moving, he pulls out halfway, only to plunge back in. Lovino moans in pleasure, always the vocal one, momentarily glad he spent the extra money to make the backrooms soundproof, though he doubted anyone would hear them over the music anyway. Picking up the pace, the two quickly settled into a merciless rhythm. Antonio reaches around, and grabs Lovino's member, pumping it in perfect sync to his thrusting. Lovino begins chanting Antonio's name, causing Antonio to groan and move faster and faster, slipping easily in and out of Lovi's ring. Lovino uses one hand to cover his mouth, and the other to tug gently on Antonio's wavy brown hair.
Soon, Lovino spills onto his chest and the unused sheets, and after a few more thrusts, Antonio follows, releasing into his love. He pulls out, and lies on the bed with his lover, nuzzling gently. After a few minutes of panting, still delirious with pleasure, he speaks.
"Ti amo," Antonio whispers into Lovino's sweaty hair, planting a soft kiss onto his forehead,
"Te amo, bastardo."
The pair falls asleep in each other's arms, a mess of limbs above the sheets, sated and happy, the hum of music lulling them in the background.
review please! Go ahead and flane any feedback is good. this is my first time writing smut. thanks to my editor tacomonster who made sure this wasnt littered with spelling errors. I'm gonna go die now because my non yaoi friends know about this account and I'm posting this anyway.