Mirrors.
Prussia loves them. They reflect the reality as it is or alter it by the wishes of their maker.
Prussia has a mirror in his room. No, not the one on his ceiling, but the one in his wardrobe - the one West doesn't know about. During the long, lonely night when he was alone, with West away somewhere, he would take that mirror out.
It was a beautiful mirror, silver frame with details even his past emperors would have been envious of. That mirror was Prussia's treasure. He was the only one who knew of it, only one allowed to touch it.
Touch it. First he traces his finger alongside the seam of the frame and glass, the cool metal making him shiver. He smirks at his own reflection and presses his fingers against it's lips.
"Hi there, handsome", he whispers and winks.
Call him a narcist, if you like, but Prussia doesn't think of himself as one. The only one he wants to be loved by is himself - and that special kind of love he gets as much as he likes to get. He doesn't need people admiring his silver hair - he runs his fingers through it and sighs, eyes fixed on his reflection doing exactly the same - nor does he need them complimeting his pale skin and extraordinary eyes - he licks his lips and leans forward to touch his reflection's cheek with his hand - because, all he needs is the mirror and himself.
As Prussia slowly opens the buttons of his shirt, his breath hitches in his throat. It's been too long since he last did this. He hadn't remembered that he looked this good... a shiver runs down his spine and to his groin as he lets his fingers slip down his body, from his neck down to chest, from there to his stomach - man, his abs were feeling rather amazing - and even further down, to still at the front of his dark jeans.
His lips part in a quiet moan and he has to resist an urge to let his eyes close, it doesn't work that way. He has to see. He has to see his reflection, his own eyes hazy with lust and slender body covered in sweat, trembling after an orgasm.
Prussia raises his hand to rest it against the cool surface of the mirror, spreading his fingers on the reflection's chest. He can almost feel it, too - the reflection and him are the same, they both feel the same.
"Ah", he breathes out as he accidentally closed his eyes, opening them in an instant, before the spell could be broken. He gets down to his knees and tugs down the zipper of his pants, eyes following the movement of the reflection. "F-fuck", he murmurs as his jeans fall down his hips and puddle around his knees. "...fuck, I'm hot..."
He pulls his underwear down and moans at the cold air on his cock, already hard from the simple sight of himself and fuck, he needs to be touched. Reaching to the left, Prussia searches his bedside table for a bottle of lotion. He chuckles as he finds it and covers his hands with it's content. He presses a hand against his cock, using his open palm to stroke it and he opens his mouth in a silent moan. He stares at the reflection's lips, pink, wet and so inviting... he leans forward and kisses the mirror, the cool surface warming under his lips and the brush of his tongue.
A loud moan slips past his lips and he's glad that no one else is in the building. His other hand, the one not palming himself, wanders to his backside, down his back and to between his buttocks. He lets a soft whimper escape his mouth as he presses his lips harder against the mirror and rubs the tip of his finger against his hole, coating it with the lotion. "Mein Gott", he moans as he pushes the finger inside himself, just the tip and slowly even more.
This is something Prussia would never let anyone do to him, but when he knows it's himself doing it, it's alright - no, way better than alright, it feels fucking awesome when he twists the finger inside himself and he just has to press his other hand against the mirror to hold himself up, smearing it with some of the lotion. And that just makes the reflection way hotter.
Another finger. It's... it's even better than one. Three wouldn't be horrible, not impossible for him to take, but two, two fingers curling inside of him is just perfect - at least, judging by his throbbing cock, waiting to be touched and the hazy eyes of his reflection, their colour not so red anymore, but black. Darkened with lust. He chuckles lowly as he scissors his fingers, pushing them deeper in and trying to reach that somwehere there. The chuckle turns into a drawn out moan as he actually finds it and oh gott, he's let breathless for a moment.
Taking a deep breath his lets go of the mirror and slips the hand between his legs, fingers ghosting over his cock. His hips jerk forward. He didn't mean to, but, damn, that felt great. Slowly he starts stroking himself, legs spread as far as he could with the jeans still half on, two fingers up his ass and eyes fixed on the reflection, the way his long fingers curl around his cock and how his hips tremble and - that just has to be the most beautiful thing in the world, Prussia thinks as he presses his thumb roughly against the tip and just moans, loud and shameless.
If someone knew of this, they wouldn't understand. They simply wouldn't. They wouldn't accept it even from him - and he had, naturally, the reputation as one of the most depraved nations. Surely he had had his own little adventures and he liked trying just about anything even for once, but...
Nothing compared to the feel of his own hand, the sight of his own eyes slowly becoming hazier... sweat dripping down his mainly clothed body. Trembling hips. The look of desperation on his face as he bites his lip, trying to keep from screaming as he jams his fingers deep still deeper inside himself and erratically tugs at his cock.
Prussia knows he won't last much longer, warmth in his abdomen and spasming of his toes, whole feet, were signs enough of that. Not to mention his panting has gotten quite loud, the moans not much quieter and fuck, he really just wants to cry out.
And that he does. He presses his fingertip against that spot inside, the hand on his cock stilling and with last glance to the reflection - the eyes! - he comes, hard, into his hand and all over the mirror, dirtying it even more. And he screams, he screams his own name as he slumps agains the mirror, his legs twitching and arms feeling rather numb. Crying out his own name, the desperate, satisfied cry of 'oresama!' doesn't feel awkward to him at all. He feels like it was the reflection screaming the name, not him.
He looks at the reflection on the mirror. Still as hot as ever, the black eyes have turned back to dark red and the cocky grin softened to loving smile.
When he grins to the mirror, Prussia swears the reflection winks at him - and he sure as hell didn't do that.
Written in two nights, 'round midnight. As 'lready said, a kink-meme fill from part 12. Here's link, just delete the spaces - http: / hetalia-kink .livejournal. ? thread=40035804#t40035804