"This is wrong.." The Dutchman whispered gently, only to be quieted by firm lips on his own. His back was pressed against a brick wall, an alley hidden deep within the streets of Amsterdam. Fingers find themselves tangled deep within thick brown locks, trying to pull the tanned man closer. He was surprised to see the man, obviously hunting him down for some reason. He never does leave his territory. He felt a knee slip between his legs, rubbing him, making him want more. Netherlands closes his eyes for just a moment, wanting to enjoy, suspicious brown eyes looked at him, a young face covered in tribal paint. His eyes shot open again, pushing the younger away from him.
" ..This is /wrong/." He repeated, wiping away some drool at the corner of his mouth. His memory was too vivid. Images of the other as a child, tugging him around a hut village. Catching the kid spying on him while he was showering. Finding the land useless, he left the crying kid in the hands of England..
"...Australiƫ.." He whispered again, looking into the disappointed eyes of what used to be his son. The kid did grow, from this frail thing that he found one day to this. The Dutchman could see the muscles under his shirt, he could easily overpower him. Frowning deeper when the other started to whine, he could hardly understand a word. Stupid, adorable cockney accent. The ahoges were sticking straight up, obviously showing he was nervous. And that band aid..Part of him wanted to rip it off just to see what'll happen.
The Dutchman was quickly pushed up against the wall again, tangled in a desperate kiss. The Aussie was muttering how beautiful he was, how he wished to keep him all to himself. The knee returned, hands groped his ass. His eyes closed and there were no more eyes, no more tribal paint and the image of a child. No, this was a man, completely different from the kid he had found so long ago. The Dutchman let him, let the kid dominate him against the wall that night, his screams of pleasure echoing through the streets of his beloved city. No regrets.
