Author's notes:
As promised, this is the extended/deleted scene for the fic, which essentially leaves "suggestive" into explicit if (hopefully) tasteful NSFW AusHun-ness. I'll leave you to decide. Still, hope you like this little addition!
And just to be certain, I neither own Hetalia nor 1983: Doomsday. All rights belong to their respective owners.
*UPDATE* I just made a few additions and tweaks. I couldn't resist...so enjoy!
Outskirts of Linz, Alpine Confederation. 2014
"So Roderich," Hungary whispered. "Do you yield?"
Austria was momentarily shocked before smirking inwardly. My, my. So is this your real secret trick? His outward appearance though feigned indignation. "I have already won, Elizaveta. Surely you jest."
"Well then," she murmured mockingly as her sword once more appeared on her hand, pointed playfully at him. "Then I'll make you~"
Then to his bewildered if pleasant surprise, she used the weapon to take his cravat off. Inwardly however, he was thankful that Switzerland had done a splendid job surrounding his residence with alarms and security no matter how many times Prussia somehow managed to slip through. At least I can thank you for those. Still, the Nation chuckled playfully as he used his own blade to parry. "Two can play this game, Liebchen. Have at it!"
While the Austrian was all too familiar with how she fought, especially with this particular sort of "swordplay," he refused to give even an inch. But with each successful defense, somehow Elizaveta managed to tear if not remove altogether some article of clothing from his person with her weapon. Resisting the urge to blush, he tried to counter her moves even as he found it harder to keep up his fighting arm. Still, he smirked upon managing to remove the upper tunic of her Alpine uniform, revealing more of her natural form. Blushing slightly, the Magyar tried a lunge that just tore one of his sleeves, showing some of the toned skin beneath. Eventually they found themselves deeper into the sheltered greenery surrounding the house. It was only then, amidst his exhaustion that he realized that his breeches were long gone.
"Now do you yield?" Hungary asked again, sultrily yet with a hint of her old boastful, boyish glee.
"Nein. Not yet." Then with a blur of delicate, precise motions, Roderich quickly slashed at her remaining clothing. Each article slowly peeled off, the remnants of her uniform falling first until her undergarments finally gave way, her wild beauty exposed. The Nation let go of his blade just as Hungary dropped hers, all while making a courtly if exaggerated bow. Though not without a faint smile of satisfaction. "Now I surrender, Frau Hedervary. You may leave the wreath on."
It wasn't long before he was pulled up by the naked figure, the being's face clearly enjoying it all despite supposedly "losing." Her hands nimbly went to work taking off his shirt, leaving both of them exposed to each other.
"I shall~" she whispered raspily as the Magyar allowed herself to be pulled in. But even as he held her tight, their lips joining into a deep, passionate kiss, Roderich knew how uncharacteristically obscene their little adventure was. Something neither Vash, Lilli or anyone in the Alpine Confederation would image him ever doing. Who would? As if that matters now…
Austria's concerns on propriety had long faded at any rate as he laid Hungary down on the grass. From her supple, heaving breasts to the scars and marks still faintly visible on her light body, not even death of whatever became of her afterwards seemed to make them less familiar. Yet while his kisses soon turned towards pleasing her deceptively delicate skin, Elizaveta continued to writhe and struggle under him, toying him with her soft yet playful moans. A part of him thought of leaving marks on her nape and breasts, as if out of some primal desire to mark her as his. Still, he had enough sense over himself to properly lavish attention over the lady. Then with an otherworldly glow, he found themselves rolling about, caught in each other's caress, his sweat mingling into hers. It was all too much.
"Ungarn," he gasped, his glasses fogging up amidst their heat. "B-Bitte…"
"Kerem, just shut up," Elizaveta hissed sultrily. Her legs clung on tightly on him, her most intimate parts unbarred. "Make love to me, Roderich~"
And without saying a word, he entered her. Sensing Hungary's fingers digging into his back, he moved ever faster, covering her nape with kisses that not even her true form could possibly erase. For as long as he could, he tried to hold back, not wanting to ruin the moment. Then, opening his eyes as he neared his limit, the Nation thought he saw a smile and a glimpse of the indescribable. One word only came to mind. Heaven. Nothing else seemed to matter by then. Just his sounds and hers in a symphonic melody.
When the Austrian came to, a part of him wondered if she would still be there by his side. Only to shrug the notion off. He knew better. Sure enough, his eyes opened up to find the Magyar caressing his face, their bodies still joined together.
In all that time, he realized, neither the familiar flower on her hair nor the wreath of Edelweiss seemed to have fallen off. Other thoughts came to mind. Had circumstances been different, perhaps Julia may have had a new sibling. Perhaps Doomsday might have been just a nightmare dreamed up by paranoid people or peculiar novelists. No matter. At least you're here, Meine Liebe.
"I suppose we shall be having more of these adventures later," he whispered as he gently removed the hair from her face. "Ich liebe dich."
"Boldog Valentin, Drágám," Elizaveta murmured back softly, nodding with a soft smile. "So, did I sweep you off your feet?"
"Ja…" he smiled. "Ja. We both did."
As for reference:
Liebchen - "Beloved" (German)
Meine Liebe - "My love/beloved" (German)
Boldog Valentin - "Happy Valentines!" (Hungarian)
Nem - "No" (Hungarian)
Drágám - "Darling/Beloved" (Hungarian)