Disclaimer: Obviously, I don't own Hetalia.
Author's Notes: Thanks to Mello, who was kind enough to lend me an Austria-Prussia doujinshi. Otherwise I probably wouldn't have wound up writing this. Please review, but go easy on me- this is my first fic for Hetalia.
11:00 on Saturday night found Prussia trying to scale the trellis in back of Austria's house. There was, of course, a very good reason why he had been forced to cast his awesomeness aside temporarily and engage in such a desperate measure. Last time, he had tried simply ringing the doorbell like a normal, civilized person. He had been greeted with a face full of frying pan. He vaguely remembered a distinctly Hungary-like voice say, "Goddamnit, Prussia, leave Austria alone!" before he passed out cold on the front steps. Being shaken awake by an anxious-looking Austria still in his dressing gown (presumably out to get the morning paper and finding instead an unconscious Prussia) had not been unwelcome. But the goose egg bruise that had sprouted on his forehead where the frying pan had made contact certainly was.
But this visit had been carefully planned out. Hungary was not home. He would make it into the house undetected, and then Austria would be too much of a gentleman to throw him out immediately. He ought to have at least half an hour, maybe even an hour if he behaved himself. He snorted at the thought. All right, maybe he would only have half an hour. It was still an awesome plan. Except for the fact that Austria and Hungary were actually growing things on the trellis that featured so prominently in said plan. Roses, to be precise. Which had thorns, he discovered, inches from the window ledge on the second floor, when one impaled his palm. Instinctively letting go of the rose stem and trellis, he had nearly lost his balance and plummeted to the stone patio beneath. Nearly. Naturally, he was too awesome to be bested by a bunch of roses.
He clamored in through the window, rather ungracefully if he was honest, to find himself in the master bedroom. Austria wasn't there, of course. He had a sneaking suspicion that the man didn't sleep, but just stayed up all night playing piano. Taking in the room, he wondered idly whether Austria had provided the budget and Hungary the decorating choices; the effect seemed too sumptuous, too seductive even, to have been approved of by the demure aristocrat. The ties holding back the drapes caught his eye - were they...? He brushed his fingers against one, almost in disbelief. They were black velvet.
Smirking, he followed the sound of loud, rather angry piano music down the stairs and into the parlor, where he found Austria. Prussia was irked to recognize the piece as one of Beethoven's. Why a German composer? He was positive that his own nation had been home to way more awesome composers. He just couldn't think of there names right now.
To make matters worse, Austria didn't even look up, didn't even acknowledge his presence in any way, until he had finished the piece. Prussia had been concentrating so hard on keeping his temper that Austria got the first word in, as well.
"I am not even going to ask what you are doing in my house, or how you got in, for that matter. I would rather be able to sleep at night. But I am in no mood for company right now, particularly yours. Get out."
Things were not going according to plan. First the damn roses, now an angry, assertive Austria - That could only mean one thing.
"Aww, Roddy, did you have another fight with Hungary?"
Austria stiffened, turning away from the piano to glare at Prussia. "That is not your concern."
Prussia closed the distance between him and Austria, effectively trapping the man between him and the piano. "Is that why she's not here right now?"
Apparently, Prussia had underestimated how worked up Austria was over said fight, because he was totally unprepared for the backhand that Austria bestowed upon his cheek. The blow knocked Prussia backwards and it stung like hell. He gingerly touched his face, but naturally, his touch only made it sting more. Glancing at Austria, however, he was surprised to see his expression had changed from fury to concern. He followed the man's gaze to his hand and noticed the blood flowing from the thorn wound in his palm, seeping between his fingers and dripping down the other side of his hand.
Prussia's attention was quickly transferred to Austria's cravat, which the man was now quickly untying with nimble fingers. Austria had a firm hold on Prussia's wrist by the time it dawned on him that Austria was not stripping, but intended to use the cravat to bandage his hand. He made to snatch his arm away, but Austria's grip was surprisingly strong. "Let me go! I don't need a damn nurse - it's just a cut!"
"I do not need you bleeding all over my carpet. And this would be much easier, faster, and less painful if you sat down, shut up, and held still." Prussia was too shocked to argue. Austria's now bare neck and firm grasp on his wrist as he led him to the piano bench didn't help matters.
"Well," he ceded, "None of this would've happened if it weren't for your damn roses, so I suppose the least you could do is clean up your mess."
Austria's expression clouded with anger again, but Prussia thought he saw amusement dancing in his eyes. "Are you blaming me for an injury you incurred while breaking into my house?"
Austria's proximity was making coming up with a clever retort difficult, so Prussia settled for assuming what he hoped was an indignant expression.
Austria sighed, tying off the knot on Prussia's bandage. "If you went through the effort of breaking into my house, I take it there is an actual reason for your visit. What do you want?"
Prussia grinned. "I think you know exactly what I want, Roddy."
Austria blushed. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean."
"I'm sure you do. You know," he continued, leaning towards Austria until their faces were almost touching, "I think you ought to do something about that stick up your ass. For example, I could replace it with something else..."
Austria stood abruptly, blushing furiously. "Must you be so coarse?"
Prussia stood as well. "Well, actually, yes. It's the only way to get through to you, as far as I can tell. It's the only way to get a reaction out of you." Prussia had noted Austria's poor decision to stand right next to the wall behind the piano, and now closed the distance between them, bringing his body flush up against Austria's. He placed a hand against the wall on either side of Austria to block escape and leaned forward to whisper in the man's ear. "I think you want to let your guard down." He planted a light kiss on Austria's neck just below his ear and trailed kisses to the hollow at the base of his neck. "I think you want to know what it feels like to lose control." He caught Austria's hands and pinned them above the man's head. "I think you're secretly dying to do all the things you've been conditioned to think are improper." He ground his hips against Austria's and was rewarded with the small moan that escaped the aristocrat's lips. Prussia turned to face Austria, their faces so close they were practically touching. "Am I right?"
In answer, Austria captured Prussia's lips in a fierce, demanding kiss. Prussia's shock at Austria's boldness quickly faded, all thought replaced by sensation. He let Austria's hands drop, freeing his own to twine in the man's perfect hair and bring to the small of his back. The aristocrat's fingers were ghosting over his chest before he had even realized the man had unbuttoned his jacket and shirt. Said jacket and shirt hit the floor several seconds later; Austria's hands roamed down Prussia's sides and over his hips. Prussia inhaled sharply as the aristocrats's hands cupped his ass. Since when had Austria developed - or perhaps, just decided to act on - a sex drive?
Not to be outdone, Prussia scooped the other man up and headed for the stairs. "Wha-" The confused, flushed Austria with his hair slightly mussed staring up at Prussia was nothing less than adorable.
"I thought now would be an appropriate time to head to the upstairs... unless you'd rather I just took you here, on the piano?"
Prussia took the decidedly venomous look Austria shot him as a no, so he made his way up to the master bedroom.
xXx xXx xXx
Austria awoke to a colossal crash. His first instinct was to sit bolt upright in bed; however, this was met with limited success, as the tension ran out after he got a few inches off the mattress. It seemed his hands were bound and tied to the headboard. Furthermore, he was naked. He was utterly bewildered for a few seconds before several realizations hit him with full force. Prussia was lose in his house. Prussia was lose in his house because he had let him spend most of last night having his way with him. Prussia had left him tied to his own bed with the black velvet ties from his curtains.
Austria did not rightly know whether he ought to laugh or to cry. If he was perfectly honest, Prussia's idea of tying him up last night had not been unfavorable, and leaving him tied to the bed was exactly the sort of thing Prussia would do. Goodness knew he had wanted this, had wanted Prussia for ages; he ought to be happy. Yet the knowledge that all Prussia had wanted was sex, that it could have been anyone and it was only him because he had been there and willing was unbearably painful. Come to think of it, why on earth was Prussia still here? He had gotten what he wanted, had he not? Austria cringed as another thought occurred to him. Had Prussia come back to gloat?
Prussia chose that moment to appear in the doorway. Austria favored him with the death glare he reserved for occasions on which he was especially furious; he had to at least seem indignant that the man had left him tied to his own bed. He fervently hoped said glare would make Prussia leave; all he wanted right now was to left alone with his pain. Prussia did not leave. In fact, he appeared to be trying not to laugh. Perhaps Austria's glare was in need of some reworking, or perhaps, he ceded, it was difficult to take him seriously when he was tied to a bed. What was peculiar was the fact the Prussia was not outright laughing at him; since when had the man denied himself the opportunity to have a laugh at someone else's expense?
Austria was so lost in his thoughts that Prussia got the first word in. "So I was going to be awesome and make you breakfast... but things didn't really go the way I'd planned."
Prussia was still here. Prussia was not gloating or insulting him. Prussia had tried to do something nice. For someone else. For him. Austria's earlier pain was forgotten and his heart was practically beating out of his chest. However, for propriety's sake, he could not let Prussia off the hook that easily. He sighed theatrically. "I trust there is therefore a sizeable mess downstairs in the kitchen?"
Prussia nodded, looking as close to sheepish as it was possible for someone with his ego to become.
"Well then," Austria began, kicking off the covers, "you had better make it up to me."