Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.

A/n1: Chapter 25 already, oh wow! ^^ You know, in my last fic, "This Dance", this chapter was the "Thank-You" –chapter. You know, in which I thanked my reviewers for being awesome enough to give me feedback and comments on the chapters. I'm planning to do that with this fic as well, b-but damn, there are so many great readers out there who're always reviewing and complimenting me, that I think it's going to be very difficult to do… Ah, but I certainly want to write out another "Thank-You" –chapter!~ So for now, let's just see how it goes, okay?

A/n2: Since "Tailfeather" is a pretty unusual butt-reference (XDDDD You don't say!), I think I already have an alternative butt-name in the next chapter for it. Expect something hilarious!

A/n3: …t-that's right, I wrote smut. A bit earlier than planned. Oh god. Please let me know what you think of it…

** Bottoms-Up! **

Chapter XXV:

Back Door Man
(Howlin' Wolf)

…

O-okay, I don't know what was so friggin' special about that stupid box of cheap icecream in Antonio's hands, but if it was special enough for him to look at the fucking box longer than mentally necessary, even for an idiot like him, then I hated it and wanted to brutally kill it with leftover spaghetti.

And I just knew there had to be a way to do that.

…

Ugh. G-god, Antonio.

I breathed in and out slowly, anxiously. L-look up already, y-you mean bastard. Look at me. Just… just look at me, dammi—

'Hey, Lovino?'

He looked up frowning and unprepared eyes met my own glossy, needy ones.

'What kind of dessert would you like? I have vanilla-ice here, but I also have… I also have… I…'

He paused and stared at me. Then he stared at me some more.

Shatter. Crash.

His eyes grew larger, his frown disappeared and his jaw dropped a little – just like his arms. His movements were so rapid, abrupt and sudden that the small, glass plates slipped out of his hands and crashed down on the tiles, shattering themselves into hundredths of tiny shiny pieces of glass. Naturally, the unimportant sound was effectively ignored by the both of us.

'H-hi, Antonio…' I greeted him with a soft mumble, awkwardly moving a shaking leg over the other one and almost falling off the table while doing so, '…y-you sure took your time getting that icecream, didn't you…'

'Lovi…' he breathed quietly, now looking at my naked chest with a predatory-kind of look in his eyes, '…oh my god, Lovi… you… you're… sitting on the table…'

'Y-yes, that's right, I'm very much sitting on the table…' I nodded. One of my hands started to nonchalantly touch and move up and down the warm, already slightly sweaty skin of my chest, purposely rubbing and rolling a small nipple in between careful fingers… while my other hand landed in a pile of cold spaghetti.

…

Ew. Ew ew ew ew. Gross.

…

S-still, the strange sensation of me touching myself and Antonio, staring at me touching myself, made me flinch and sigh and narrow my eyes a bit.

I-I had never done this before… N-not in front of Antonio. When I was alone… y-yeah, stuff like this happened, of course... I'd… touch myself. Touch myself in many places. I'd touch myself in obvious, well-known places, but also in places that weren't that usual, like… like… w-well, I sometimes pulled that haircurl of mine, for example…

…b-but I never did anything like that when Antonio was close by. Never.

Firstly because… it was fucking embarrassing, dammit, and secondly… he… well, he could do it so much better than me. It… it felt nicer if it were other hands than mine that pulled my curl… if it were other touches than mine that flicked a nipple… if it were other fingers than mine that slowly pushed and curled themselves into my…

…

A-and… and all of those other hands, touches and fingers… had to be his. Antonio's.

…

But I digress.

Now, I had always… kind of thought that Antonio would love it to see me do stuff (like my current nipple-pulling… activity) to myself. I mean, he absolutely enjoyed making perverted innuendos that suggested that I should jerk off in front of him, or prepare myself in front of him, or do myself in front of him…

…and now that I was actually doing a bit of that, I noticed my assumptions were oh so very right. Because…

Antonio couldn't tear his gaze away from me. He just kept staring at me, staring at my hand, staring at everything I was doing and he made a soft, whining sound when I gasped and pinched a slowly-stiffening nub just a little bit harder than I had done before.

'L-Lovino… Lovino…' I heard him stammer and beg, voice full of wanton already, '…please stop doing that to yourself, please…'

Oh?

I forgot my seductive act for a moment and blinked, confusedly. 'Y-you don't like it?'

The Spaniard's desperate expression suddenly darkened, darkened within seconds, and he walked towards the table, chucking.

'Oh, I like it, alright… and I don't want to disturb – dear god, certainly not – this nice, horny mood of yours…'

He stopped when he was standing before me, threw the icecream next to me on the table and firmly gripped my upper-legs, forcefully parting them and wrapping them back around his waist. It surprised me and I fell backwards – just a bit.

Oh, great. Now one of my elbows was stuck in the sticky spaghetti. Nice.

'But Lovi…' Antonio continued, his green eyes piercing and demanding and even kind of confused as he spoke to me. '…don't try me like that. Don't… don't feel yourself up like that in front of me. It'll drive me crazy. It'll get me jealous of your hands. Seriously. It'll even make me want to do stuff to you that'll make that face of yours go even redder than it is right now, just because I want to be the only one who has this… this wonderful effect on you...'

'…is… is that so.' I murmured quietly, somewhat intrigued.

He nodded. 'It is.'

'Aha.' I nodded as well. '…well, in that case…'

After a split-second of hesitation, I slowly raised my unsure hand from my chest, inserted a couple of fingers into my mouth and gently sucked on them.

'…m-mmnnh…'

Antonio could only watch it happen, his face getting a fierce, crimson color, his eyes almost popping out of their sockets as I, eventually, lowered my saliva-covered fingers to my chest again, immediately took a reddening lump of dusky flesh between forefinger and thumb and s-started to twist and rub and fold the ever-loving crap out of it.

Oh god. I closed my eyes and let out a few shuddering moans.

'…hah…h-haaah…'

Meanwhile, I could hear Antonio's way of breathing had become heavier. I didn't see him, but even with both of my eyes shut, I could totally imagine the bewildered bastard standing there, in-between my cramped legs, getting more and more turned on by me with every passing second and—

Crash. Shatter.

'L-little… little fucking tease…'

Antonio swore, and all of a sudden swatted my hand away from my chest. It hurt, dammit, but before I could complain about the pain and the two porcelain plates that had fallen off the table, the nipple I had so very eagerly abused just moments ago was engulfed by a very hot, very moist and very angry Spanish mouth. Antonio's mouth.

O-oh fuck, fuck fuck… I gasped for air and clenched my teeth. God, I didn't know if the Spaniard really was mad at me – or just extremely caught in the moment – but the way he pressed his tongue and teeth against my defenseless nipple, making grunting, growling noises as he aggressively sucked and nipped, reduced me to a panting, whimpering mess.

'N-no, y-you… you… nng… haa-ah…'

Crash.

Another plate fell to its timely death as I let myself shove down on the table. His hand had found my other nub and pulled it ruthlessly, ignoring my half-assed protests and alarmed yelps of pain/pleasure, while his free hand went in search for my own available hand and grabbed it firmly, but not too firmly, interlacing our fingers together.

Shatter. Crash. Bang.

And there went one of the bowls. And the bottle of Limoncello. And – d-damn, that was Feliciano's favorite wineglass…

'S-stop, y-you're… hah… you're… you're breaking my stuff… you… bastar… aah…'

I tried to say something, but talking while Antonio was playing with my stupid nipples turned out to be very difficult, for some reason.

He looked up from my chest and I choked a groan when the bastard let go of a nub, a long trail of spit still connecting his mouth to the now oh so very extremely sensitive area on my chest. His hand also stopped rubbing and teasing and instead softly pressed itself against my hot, burning cheeks.

'So red, Lovi… so very, very red, my love…' Antonio said, a content look on his face as he lowered his head and softly bit my neck. Over and over again.

'O-oh god… god…' I whined and threw my head back, accidentally ramming it against another bowl – ouch, stupid other bowl! – and tightened my legs around his waist and hips, pulling him closer. I wanted to touch him, I wanted to touch and kiss him so badly, even with this annoying spoon pricking in my back…

I managed to lift my hand, the one that wasn't captured by Antonio's, shook off the long strings of spaghetti (dammit dammit dammit) and carefully ran it through his hair, my whining turning into quiet moans when I felt the Spaniard changed his biting into affectionate licking.

'E-enough, enough already, j-just ki – ah! – kiss me, dammit, k-kiss me, please…' I stammered, pleaded, pulling his hair and squeezing his hand.

Antonio smiled against my skin and complied, warm wetness leaving my neck. I watched his face coming closer to mine with hazy eyes, my chest heaving and my heart beating fanatically, hysterically, when he attacked my mouth and forced it open. Our tongues met and he gave a delighted sigh, still caressing my feverish cheek with loving fingers.

It felt good, oh god, it felt so good, so very good and passionate even though I wished my sleeve wasn't getting covered in Bolognese sauce when I touched his face and smeared the shit all over our suits, I still allowed myself to hotly breath out his name when he pulled back a bit.

'A-Antonio… Antonio… I-I'm…'

'I-I know…' he muttered tiredly, his mouth hovering just above mine, '…I'm also… leaning into a fork… for more than five minutes already… oh god, my arm…'

'…wait, you're what?' I opened my half-lidded eyes some more and stared up to his frustrated, blushing face. He was glaring at a little something that was lying next to me and clumsily moved his arm over the table, refusing to let go of my hand (although it probably would have made things easier for him), commenting in Spanish on how unbelievably irritating and stupid and gah the fork was, before he finally succeeded in getting rid of the thing, by throwing it off the table.

Tinkle-tinkle.

'Ha!' Antonio cheered.

Then he rested his head on my sweaty chest with a thud and groaned.

…

And then something shocking happened (suddenly, out of the blue, just like that, I never saw it coming, yadayadayada).

The corners of my mouth tilted upwards.

OH MY GOD.

There was actually a smile forming on my face. Slowly, but steady. And a big one too, because I felt my smile getting broader and noisier and no, not even trying to muffle my sounds by burying it in Antonio's hair couldn't prevent the amused, choked snorts and laughs that I was suddenly producing from coming out.

I was laughing.

Out loud.

The fuck?

…

Seriously, just… just what?

Oh yeah, sure, it sounded a bit weird and maybe even disturbing at first, but after the first couple of strange, light giggles (giggles, WTF), my laughing grew increasingly louder and more honest and hell, at one point, you could even call the laughing noises I made shockingly natural. Teary eyes, flushed face, unstoppable hiccups from laughter and other unhealthy side effects included.

'You… you stupid fuck. With your… fork…' I managed to spit out, shaking my head helplessly, '…damn, you're such a stupid… really…'

Antonio, who had already lifted his head from my chest to look at me after the first titter~ had escaped from my lips, was watching me with an amazed look in his lively, green eyes and beamed a fond smile at me when he realized I was talking to him.

'You laugh beautifully, my love.'

'S-shut the fork up! Fuck up! I mean fuck up! S-shit! M-make it stop, d-dammit!' I giggled uncontrollably, body shaking and squirming.

'Ah, sure Lovi, if that's what you want…' Antonio chuckled, gripping the sides of my torso and pressing a not-so-innocent, open-mouthed kiss on my cheek, '…it's a pity, though… your laugh… it sounds like a warm, hot bath, you know...'

'O-oh, shut it…' I murmured, but still gave the Spaniard an questioning, shy smile, my laughing already beginning to fade away when his lingering kisses found my mouth and became wetter, sloppier. The movements of his exploring hands also grew bolder, since I could feel them sliding behind my back. I trembled a bit when he got a hold on the elastic band of my boxers (that's right, I had changed my briefs for boxers) and curved my back, wanting to be closer to those wandering hands.

'Fork, eh?~' Antonio teasingly purred against my mouth, pulling at my boxer's waistband.

'N-no, spoon…' I gasped out.

Antonio frowned, looking very confused, but then understood what I meant and searched the table right underneath me for the piece of cutlery (and not holding back with the kisses and licks to my face as he did so), eventually finding and removing the annoying spoon, after which he swiftly threw it somewhere behind him.

Clash.

'Good?' he asked, leaning down even more on me.

'Y-yeah.' I admitted and pushed myself up to meet those delicious lips halfway.

He hummed cheerfully as he answered my heated kiss. His hand, that was previously stretching the elastic band, suddenly shoved itself into my boxers, between my ass-cheeks, and I let out a strangled groan when I felt something long, cold and sticky being slowly pressed inside of me.

'…a-ah…'

'Even better, right…' Antonio whispered, using his other hand to tug my pants down a bit. He gave me a knowing, yet strangely unsure look as he moved the single finger in and out of me easily, sometimes pushing it in as far as he could, sometimes only gently rubbing my walls with it.

'Lovi… y-you like it, don't you… you like it when I do this to you… right? Because… if you don't like it, if you want me to stop… you must tell me… it's all up to you, my love… now… shall I continue, or do you want me to sw—'

'Wh-wha… I-I… yes, d-dammit, c-c-continue with… with whatevert-the hell you're busy with, y-you fucking j-jerk… but…'

I hissed quietly when another finger started to poke against my entrance but then abruptly grabbed the front of his jacket, glaring at him as angrily as I could – which wasn't easy with (now two) fingers carefully thrusting themselves further into me.

'W-wha-ah… what… what are you using, y-you… ah… hah… you ass…'

'Um…' The Spaniard paused for a moment, blinking. '…my… fingers?'

I stared at him, trying to catch my breath. 'O-oh for God's… I… I know you're using your fucking fingers, moron…'

He smiled. 'I hope you do. There's no-one around who knows them better than you, my hot, sexy Lovi…'

'B-but what… wha…' My breath hitched in my throat again when the bastard pulled the rest of my pants and boxers down with a swift movement and began undoing his own, '…wh-what are you using as… lu…l-l-l-l-lubri…'

A third finger was added and I shuddered in repressed delight.

'What I'm using as… ah…' Antonio moaned softly when he felt me clench around his fingers, '…god, you're so very tight, Lovino…'

I flushed, gritted my teeth and jabbed a heel into his back. 'A-answer… answer me, d-dammit… what are you… hng—'

Fourth finger.

'Ah, let's try to find out together what I used, shall we…' Antonio said, sharply pushing in all the way, to his knuckles.

'A-ah… Oh m-my god, Antonio…' I panted breathlessly, too overwhelmed by the painful pleasure ripping through my lower body to stop him from hitting a certain spot several times, again and again and again, keeping up a steady pace, and—

Oh… oh god, oh god. So good. Too good. Fuck. I wasn't going to last long like this, dammit, and he wasn't even touching my dick yet, th-that evil bastard, shit, how shameful of me to… to probably be able to c-come like this…

'It's cold, right… well, now not anymore, but… it was very cold in the beginning, wasn't it, my love… and it'll be cold again very soon, but still… ' Antonio muttered, kicking off his pants and all of a sudden removing his slick, dripping-wet fingers out of me, '…ah, I can't wait to love you a little bit more… to let you feel a little bit more of me, Lovi…'

My tightly shut eyes snapped open and stared at the ceiling above me. Then I leant some more on my elbows and shot an upset glare at the blissfully smiling bastard, who was rubbing himself casually with… with…

'Icecream, Antonio? Oh god. You… y-you can't be fucking serious…' I growled lowly.

The Spanish nation nodded excitedly, moving and placing himself in the area between my thighs and peeled-off pants, turning his back on the dangling fabric on my ankles to pull my lower body closer to him.

Oh, and he gave a long, lazy lick to each one of his fingers that had been insi…hmmrr… inside of m... m…

And then my brain officially turned into goo. Hooray!

'Yup, I used vanilla-ice, Lovino!~ Surprised?' Antonio chuckled after cleaning up those long, lovely fingers of his, '…ah, you shouldn't be!~ Come on now, you don't think I'd rather have loosened your cute butt up with icky Bolognese sauce, do you?'

'I…I…' I stammered, blood rushing to my face, somehow unable to think of a next word/letter to say.

'Ah, you know I think vanilla-ice is way tastier than Bolognese sauce, Lovi… especially when it's mixed with you.'

He grinned sheepishly at me and spread my restrained legs a bit more, his dirty hands sticking to the skin of my thighs.

That…

That was probably the moment I realized that he wasn't going to untangle my pants and feet. If… if we were going to do this, we were going to do this like this.

…

T-the fuck?

Did he even know how uncomfortable I was now? Shit, I couldn't… couldn't properly move my legs like this! I couldn't even kick him in the back anymore! Fucking asshole!

I…I should throw a pile of Bolognese sauce into that smug face of him! Yeah, I should! And I would! Just… just wait 'till I got my hands on some sauce, dammit, and then I'd—

Oh.

My overheated mind instantly stopped shouting all kinds of complot-theory's-to-kill-slash-severely-damage-Antonio-with at me when I felt… w-when I felt said person was entering me with care, stretching me up, making me experience that oh so very familiar feeling of pain mixed with bliss mixed with embarrassment mixed with lust again.

…

A-ah… I… I had missed this feeling…

I didn't dare to breath. Didn't dare to move. Didn't even dare to say anything, anything at all, too scared of doing something utterly stupid or downright lewd that could ruin the sultry mood, so I only observed the now very concentrated Spaniard with troubled eyes, holding back the urge to just… just shove him in already.

Because... Antonio looked very hot like this… So focused, serious, careful and… and handsome, even with that huge blush on his face, even with those furrowed eyebrows, slightly covered with a thin layer of sweat, even when burying his cock in me in this almost torturing slow pace…

I didn't want to miss a second of it.

Antonio gave a throaty moan, pushing himself deeper into me with narrowed eyes and a partly opened mouth, smiling a bit when he noticed I hesitantly lifted my trembling, awaiting hips up. It all went very smoothly from there on and before I was even fully aware of it, he suddenly was completely, firmly seated within me and wrapped his arms beneath me, upwards, clutching my shoulders and pulling me closer and closer, until his face was just above mine.

'L-Lovi… ah, my sweet Lovi… how wonderful you feel…'

He sighed, kissing me tenderly on the lips and snapping his hips forward at the same time.

'Ngh – a-ah…' I yelped, voice raspy yet surprisingly quiet, my hands awkwardly feeling and exploring the table to look for something… something to hold on to – and failing miserably. Fuck.

'Lovino…' Antonio nuzzled my neck and peppered it with soft kisses, '…ah… I… I want to make love to you nice and slowly, my love… is it… is that okay with you…'

I breathed heavily, due to the fact I was insistently rubbing my very very very very very neglected erection to Antonio's stomach, and gave the Spanish man pressing on my chest a dazed look.

'Expla… explain "nice and slowly", y-you… ah… you bastard… what do you mean with that…'

Antonio smiled and poked his nose against mine.

'Lovi… I meant just what I said, my love. I want to make love with you really nice and slowly… while kissing you, and holding you, and telling you how beautiful and hot you are, and… and while doing a couple of other things that must have slipped my mind…'

'That…ah… h-hah…' I bit my lower lip when I felt another thrust, this one getting dangerously close to my prostate, '…t-that sounds – ah – r-really… really… lame…'

'Hmm… you're lying, aren't you…' Antonio whispered in my ear, setting on a slow, but definite rhythm of grinding, thrusting and bucking.

'O-of course I'm lying, y-you… you –ngh – you… bastara – ah…'

'Ahaha… that's… that's okay, my love… I—'

'I love you so much…'

'Ah, I— wh-what?'

Antonio stopped and stared at me, his face getting redder, his expression something in-between overtly happy and overtly bewildered.

'I… I fucking love you, y-you jerk…' I repeated with a huff, feeling brave enough to say the words relatively easily because of our current extreme intimacy, and shyly wrapped my arms around his neck, '…d-don't act so surprised, d-dammit… y-you know I love you…'

'Y-yes, I know… I'm… I'm just not used to you, saying that line, that perfect line… so… so honestly…'

He laughed timidly, gently tugging me closer to kiss me again. His face and breath felt hot and his hands gripping my shoulders gave me a soft, loving squeeze. Then he started moving again.

'Ah, but I love you too, of course… with all of my heart, my lovely, lovely little Lovi…'

'A-ah, aah…' I pretty much whimpered, digging my nails into his (still fully clothed, what the hell!) back as he moved in and out of me, simultaneously dragging me back and forwards over the table – and over several kitchen things that were also (still) lying on the table.

'…p-prove it to me, j-jerk…' I heard myself demand as I watched another plate falling over the edge.

Crash.

Antonio calmly licked and bit my already hurt lower lip, before boring his eyes into mine.

'Prove you what, Lovi?'

'T-that you… that…' I frowned and flushed, but forced myself to keep looking at him, '…t-that you love me… dammit… c-convince me that you… that you do.'

The Spaniard smiled and removed one of his hands from my shoulders to run his fingers down my torso to my throbbing-with-ache-and-need dick, grasping it tightly, but never too tightly.

'…a-AH!'I immediately arched my back and accidentally shoved a bottle with pickles from the table.

Bang.

Oh god. Oh yes. H-he finally touched me, he finally finally finally finally touched me. S-so good, so good…

'Oh, silly Lovi…' Antonio pressed a kiss to the corner of my mouth and strengthened his grip around my shoulder to keep me down, '…believe me... by the time I'm finished with you, you'll be very much convinced of my love for you… and your ass… and your sharp, merciless tongue… and your perfect, pinkish cock… and your sweet smile… and just… just everything you are, my love…'

'A-Antonio… ah! G-god, Antonio…' I stammered his name, over and over again, like a mantra, groaning and panting and hating the pants around my ankles so fucking much right now.

'Allow me to convince you, Lovino… ah, Lovino… Lovino, Lovino…'

He shuddered, closed his eyes and gave me a far from gentle yank and I screamed and moaned and tried to rip his bothersome suit to pieces and… and… and…

…and I just loved it when he called me "Lovino". So much.

XxX

…

…w-well.

After he had started to stroke and pull my erection during our passionate lovemaking, the both of us knew it would all come to an end very soon – partly because I loved loved loved the feeling of getting a hand-job too much, partly because Antonio loved loved loved the noises I made when getting fucked too much.

So… so it wasn't for too long before we came, this time very shortly after each other, which was a rarity, since Antonio and I almost never came together, nor shortly after each other.

I didn't even remember who of us was the first one to yield to that blissful, mind-blowing, uncontrollable rush that flooded through our veins like a fucking drug…

…but I did know that I couldn't help but sigh in satisfaction, in motherfucking shameful embarrassing satisfaction, as I felt a warm, wet sensation filling me up to the brim.

…

…k-kind of nice…

Or… or something…

I-I don't know…

XxX

B-but anyway…

A few minutes later, after our breathing had become normal again and after Antonio's usual sweet, murmured words about how good the sex had been – 'So very good!~' – and about how fantastic I had felt around him – 'So very fantastic!~' – and about how beautiful I was – 'So very beautiful!~' had been spoken, I found myself in…

…

…well… in a bind.

Because…

Um. Antonio had this… this strange habit. Yeah, okay, the Spanish nation had a lot of strange habits – hell, he was a strange habit! – but this particular strange habit of his was… well… it was keeping me from doing anything else, dammit, because he…

He had fallen asleep.

Like a log.

On top of me.

W-while still being i-inside of me.

…

Uncomfortable.

…

…n-not extremely uncomfortable, but still far, far away from pleasurable.

…

Well, shit.