Title: Office hours are for work
Rating: T for sexual themes
Characters: GermanyxItaly, brief camo of Prussia
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, the concept behind Hetalia, nor the countries themselves. This is a fanwork and not for profit.
Warnings: The 'm' word? And silliness with a bit of fluff.
A/N: Written for my friend as a reward for behaving herself… And then she had the gall to ask me for another. Inspired by the strip where Japan invents the thought-reading googles.
"Germany~!" Italy burst in wildly, a smile on his face and his hair curl bouncing wildly. He entered the room full tilt, ready to tell Germany all about his morning when he screeched to an undignified halt. He stared at the blond man curiously as he jumped like a scalded cat.
Italy blinked a few times not really understanding the garbled speech Germany was shouting at him. Something about 'it's not what it looks like' and 'don't you ever knock?'
"Ve~," he said slowly, "I'll come back later."
If anything that made Germany sputter even more wildly, turning bright red, but there wasn't much he could do after being caught with his pants down.
Italy slowly closed the door and tapped his lip. That looked awfully uncomfortable; maybe Germany didn't know how to do it correctly. Maybe he needed help. Italy considered it for a few more seconds and blushed slightly. Yes, that must be it. He needed help loosening up a little because German was so strict he must be having a hard time.
So Italy pushed the door open to find the pants back on (along with the belt) and Germany wiping his hand on some papers.
"Do you need help?" Italy inquired, watching him in perplexity. He eyed the man's front and knew that he wasn't done. That had to be highly uncomfortable, especially since Germany always wore such tight, restricting pants.
"N-no," Germany sputtered sounding alarmed, "I-I… it was n-nothing. Nothing."
"Ve~ I could give you some tips." Italy offered, beaming. He didn't wait for an answer as he pranced over to the larger country and laid his hand directly over the pants. Germany yelped and hit the hard chair behind him. He winced, biting his lip.
"N-no!"
"But… but you're not happy. And you should be." Italy pointed out stubbornly. He was already working on getting the belt back off. His fingers hit Germany's and the bigger man grabbed his wrist. He winced and obediently stopped in confusion. That couldn't be comfortable!
"I-It's f-fine… fine!" Germany snapped with beads of sweat dripping down his forehead. His face was turning a distinct magenta color and Italy wondered how much of those gasps of air he was getting in.
Well, he could help with that too.
After all, Germany was his friend.
Seeing as he wasn't gaining access, Italy decided it might be more effective to simply show Germany some techniques. Things that wouldn't be so painful. The moment his hands hit his pants Germany made a strangely strangled sound and fell off the chair.
Italy just watched for a moment before deciding that this was getting nowhere. He had never seen Germany so animated, and he found it a little disturbing. The other country was getting awfully worked up, but it wasn't going to take care of his problem.
"Germany." Italy frowned and reached down to put a hand on Germany's shoulder. Instantly the bigger country stiffened and Italy took this as a good sign. At least now he could say something. "That is not how you masturbate."
Germany all but stopped breathing.
"You have to be gentle." Italy said firmly giving a nod. "I can help."
Then Germany did stop breathing.
"Hey, hey! Germany!" Italy's lip quibbled and he looked around for help. Luckily the lack of air snapped the blond nation out of his stupor and he gasped and gagged. Italy rubbed small circles on his back and muttered encouragement as best he could. He still didn't understand why Germany was behaving so strangely.
When Germany finally stopped sounding like a drowning fish he collected himself and sat on the chair. His blue eyes were bloodshot and he peered down at Italy. He stared for a moment before looking away.
"You saw nothing."
"Oh, it's okay! Everyone does it." Italy reassured cluelessly. "If you just…"
"No. Get out."
Italy's lip quivered again and he looked hurt. He was just trying to help. But he realized Germany wasn't very good at accepting help. It didn't mean he didn't need it, but he wasn't very good at saying thank you. Italy caught his cowardly lip and gave a firm nod. That was it. He would appreciate the help later. Maybe he was embarrassed to be so clumsy~? Or maybe he was imagining a partner he wished he had? Italy flushed a little at that.
Instead of leaving he moved closer. Germany rolled his eyes seeming a little more normal but Italy could see he was still nervous. He gently grabbed Germany's big hand noting the calluses and scars that covered the weathered skin. Fascinated by the wrinkles and creases, he delicately traced across the palm with his slender finger. Germany looked like he wanted to snatch his hand back but his eyes were slightly glassy.
Italy smiled knowingly.
He gently pushed back on Germany's shoulder and the other hardly resisted at all.
The smile grew wider.
Helping was much easier if the other party was cooperative.
He was halfway out of his pants, explaining things as he went, when Germany blinked and looked up. He opened his mouth and nothing came out. A flush spread across his face and Italy giggled, continuing his explanation. It was nice to teach Germany something, since Germany was always teaching him things, like how to fight and how to keep things tidy and…
Italy squeaked as Germany tried to pull his pants up.
"Italy, stop." Germany almost begged. "I know—" he coughed slightly and looked away, "what I was doing. I don't need help."
"Ve~? You didn't look—mmmph."
He licked the offending hand making Germany jerk his hand back and narrow his eyes.
"But if Germany says so, then it must be true." Italy finished.
Germany nodded.
And was not expecting the full weight of the smaller country to come crashing down on him. He grunted as he hit the floor and the warm body landed on top of him. He growled in protest and looked up at the wide, innocent brown eyes gazing down. A bit of a smile graced the smaller country's lips and his curl bobbed slightly.
"What the--." Germany snarled then made a strangled noise in the back of his throat as the fabric rubbed across his abused naval. He tried to reach up to remove the Italian that was now rubbing against him like a cat against a tree. Unfortunately, he had fallen on his right arm, effectively pinning it under him.
Italy blinked, pausing, before saying in a matter-of-fact voice, "Let me. I'm better."
Germany wanted to reach up and shake the aggravating little… but he considered it and realized what the smaller country said was probably true. Germans had a certain… reputation… and it wasn't a good one. While Italians had a much better ranking. Still, he didn't need help jacking off. Because he didn't jack off. Italy must have misconstrued what he was doing with his… paperwork.
Just like he didn't sit there and indulge in… well, whatever it was that Italy was doing to him that made him all hot and shaky and moaning like a woman of the night.
Italy giggled, sliding down then inching back up. He pressed light kisses all over the German's face and neck. He tickled his fingers up the muscular sides. He was pretty much having a wonderful time being playful as a kitten that had a forbidden object in its paws.
Italy was having a wonderful time, although it concerned him a little that Germany was starting to change colors again. He wasn't doing anything that deserved hyperventilating. But he had given up trying to orally explain the proper way to go about pleasing oneself because Germany didn't look like he was listening. Well, maybe he was a hands-on learner. Italy always had better luck learning something if he did it.
Germany was certain that the floor should be hard and that the room should not be spinning quite the way it was. He was also quite sure that this was actually much better than anything he had experienced recently, and it was so embarrassing that he could even think that without blushing. But he felt like if his blood rushed anywhere else at any speed above normal it might come gushing out. He had flushed, blushed, and had blood pooling rapidly at other locations in his body too much already today.
"Italy…" he groaned softly, trying to push the overenthusiastic nation off of him. Anyone could walk in and then where would they be? Granted, nothing had really happened and what had felt really good—really good—but he had to be sensible here. This was an office and anyone could walk in.
"Mmm?" the younger nation hummed while nuzzling behind his ear. He wiggled a bit as the warm air rushed against his skin. There were other places he'd rather have that attention. What? No!
"This is not the place."
"Ve~ a bed would be softer," the smaller country agreed, "but you were here."
"What I mean is…" Germany had to think fast. "This is not appropriate."
All he got in return for an answer was some more full frontal rubbing and a few kisses on the nose. And was Italy patting his head like a dog?
"Mmm. Don't worry. I'll explain."
Italy would most certainly not do any explaining about why they were writhing around on the floor like a pair of cats in heat. Because he would probably say something of that exact nature in his explanation, about how it was natural and he was being a good friend.
Germany groaned, partly in excitement but mostly from exasperation. He moved his larger frame, unpinning his arm, which had started to tingle, and placed a big palm on Italy's cheek.
"I'm serious," he used his most serious voice when he said this. Except it sounded suspiciously squeaky to his ears and his damn hips wouldn't stay still. He frowned and tried again, "Not here."
"Your bed or mine?" Italy chirped, rolling off looking ready to take a flying leap into the nearest bedroom, no matter whom it belonged to. With any luck he'd land on Gilbert and Germany would have to go save the little jailbait from his perverted brother.
"No one's bed." Germany managed to sound somewhat forceful. There was not going to be any… bedding. At least not during the work day. He cursed his body for getting him into this mess. All he wanted was a bit of relief and now he had a horny Italian clinging to him like a static monkey.
And he was remembering exactly what he had been told about the appetites of Southern Europe.
Italy's bottom lips started to poke out and his eyes got larger. He stopped grinding their bodies together and looked depressed. His ridiculous curl even managed to look dejected. Germany frowned, knowing what was coming.
"Doesn't Germany like me anymore?"
The blond country sighed and managed to sit up. He rolled his eyes a little, knowing what he was about to do would land him in the 'biggest pussy in Europe' book if anyone ever found out. But why not? He'd already been thoroughly humiliated today and Italy was actually trying (succeeding? amazingly enough) to help.
Germany drew the smaller nation closer, being sure to brush softly against that stupid curl. Italy shivered and let out a small whimper but submitted to being held. He didn't look up though, probably still put off about being interrupted so rudely.
Germany placed a soft kiss on his head and muttered, sure he was going to regret it and blushing madly as he did so, "Thank you for the lesson… do you think there could be more?"
The brown haired country's head shot up and he had a silly smile plastered all over his face. "Yes! I can teach Germany everything!"
Gilbert chose that moment to pop his head in, "Hey, West, you got any more booze… woah, teach what? And why wasn't I, in all my awesomeness, invited?"
Germany just hung his head and let it sit on the bouncing Italy's narrow shoulders. All this trouble for just five minutes to himself. He could vaguely hear the two holding a conversation but he thought about the future lessons and fought off more rushing blood before promptly disengaging himself realizing there was a more pressing need.
And he was back where he started. Dammit.
