All That He Needs
Disclaimer: I very obviously don't own Hetalia?
First of all – yay for sucky titles *shot*.
First edited by Kaikouken, but re-edited by myself again (with some help from Boke-chan during an AIM chat session XDDD). The writing isn't great – but I don't think it's terrible, either (though I admit being embarrassed over the smut - oh self =_=). All criticism welcome.
Warning(s): Fluff, sap and semi-explicit smut?
Italy and Germany had been having sex for quite a while now. If you'd asked Germany how it had happened, he'd have told you that he didn't have the dimmest idea why things had turned out that way they had. Actually, what he told a scandalised Roderich (though, being an aristocrat, Roderich never showed that he was such) was the following:
He always said that Italy was a no-good idiot. And yet, he just couldn't help it. He couldn't help being with Italy.
Even if Austria's doubts as to them being together were justified – in some ways.
Because, when it came down to it, Italy – Feliciano – Germany thought, biting his protruding underlip somewhat aggressively, was too hot to handle for him.
So he'd said that he'd get me out of a pinch when I'm in pinch, but the truth is he's the usurper of my troubles, Germany thought further, and held the pint of beer tighter in his palm. He took another sip as he remembered that Felicano was currently looming in his house. After much crying and begging and being nearly squeezed to death by an overemotional Italy, Germany had agreed to let Feliciano have his key. Since then, Italy had become a constant in his life. An annoying constant.
Germany wondered what Feliciano was doing now.
He's probably fixing some pasta. Or drawing odd posters for me, Germany thought and then smiled. He couldn't stay angry for too long because even if Italy was a nuisance, he was Ludwig's nuisance. Besides, somehow Germany's house had become warmer and livelier ever since Italy had started dropping by more often.
At least, Ludwing was forced to admit, Feliciano was a better companion than Roderich. Roderich not only flicked holes into his underwear, but took to berating Germany every time he'd done something vulgar. And he'd pretty much reorganised all of Germany's household, which had been quite a disaster. Because even if Austria had meant to bring order into Germany's life, he'd pretty much done the opposite. Ludwig hadn't been able to find his papers, clothes he'd meant to throw away had been held up before his nose ... and all in all, Germany had been mightily relieved when Austria had moved back to his own home. Of course, there had also been the constant visits from Hungary who'd been too fond of wielding her frying pan at him. Besides, even though they had been divorced, Germany hadn't been able to sleep when Hungary had come to sleep over. Whatever it was they had done at night, they'd done it pretty loudly.
Not that Germany didn't know what they'd been doing, he'd just been scandalised at some of the things they'd whispered at each other. Or rather screamed. It wasn't something he'd expected of a prim and proper nation like Austria. He still had trouble believing that the man was just a shameless pervert.
Now Hungary was a different story altogether. Prussia had told him that this woman was the embodiment of a female demon. Whatever that was.
Italy was carefree, and didn't care that much for order. Though, Ludwig had been quite surprised at how clean the man was. He was pretty good at sweeping the floor. Yet, Italy lived with Austria, hadn't he?
That explained everything. Ludwig was bound to believe that anyone and anything could be tamed under Austria's rigid morals. Even Feliciano.
But there was one thing that Germany wasn't that happy with. And as he sat there, finishing his beer, Ludwig thought that maybe he'd gather his wits this time. It couldn't be that hard.
He'd fought wars. This was just a trivial thing.
Yet, Germany couldn't shrug off that feeling of nervousness.
"Germany, you're home," Italy said cheerfully, as he heard Germany march in, and he laid his brush down. He'd just been painting a picture, and hoped that Germany would be pleased with it once he was done. Giggling, he looked at the image of Germany and him. They were surrounded by sunflowers. Somehow, Italy really liked sunflowers. They were beautiful things. Even Russia realised that. But Italy immediately frowned. What if Germany wouldn't like it?
He most likely wouldn't. No, he'd probably end up berating Feliciano for having made a mess out of the living room or dropping paint on the sparkling clean floor. Italy sighed. He fell to thinking of his past. Fell to thinking of his childhood when he'd still been wearing maid's clothes.
"Holy Roman Empire would have liked my drawings," Italy mused sadly, and then felt a stab of pain. He hadn't thought about Holy Roman Empire since he and Germany had become intimate. Somehow, Germany made him forget what had happened back then. And yet, there were moments when Italy felt nearly guilty. He'd promised to wait, hadn't he?
Italy was so lost in thoughts that he'd forgotten about Germany's presence. The man was silent, looking through his mails. His forehead was marred by frowns. Lud- no Germany – looked grim.
"You've been working too much," Italy immediately said and, standing on tiptoes, placed his warm hand on Germany's forehead. "If you want, I'll make you pasta and then it will be all better."
Germany shook his head. "Don't worry. I already had something to eat."
Italy – no, Feliciano – looked at him with those big, questioning eyes, and Ludwig felt himself redden. He knew what was going to come next. And even if a part of him was annoyed, another part of Ludwig was incredibly touched. Touched that someone as weak and helpless as Italy would think of helping him. Touched that anyone would worry about him. He wasn't quite sure how to deal with this, other than mumble something inaudibly.
"Then- is there something else I can do for you? You know -" here Italy paused, blushed a bit and then smiled," I'd do anything for you!"
Ludwig pulled him Feliciano close to him, liking how the smaller man sucked in breath. Somehow, it seemed that even if Italy was a touchy-feely person, he wasn't entirely used to Germany being the one to initiate things. Germany just held on to Italy for a while, liking how warm the other was, and how right this felt.
"Germany-?" Feliciano asked, only to find himself silenced by warm lips descending on his own. He closed his eyes, and wrapped his arms around Germany's neck. He liked how Germany kissed him – tenderly and softly. It was nearly like that first kiss he'd shared with Holy Roman Empire back then. It had been a peck of lips, had only been the promise of something more passionate to happen. Once, when everything would fall to pieces again. Back then, Italy had believed those words. Back then, when he'd still been a child.
Back when -
Italy forced the thought away from his mind. He'd promised himself not to think of this anymore, hadn't he? So why he was making himself miserable now? It wasn't in his nature to be unhappy. Therefore, Italy, feeling Germany's hands hands pulling him even closer, opened his mouth. Hoping that Germany would get the clue – and really kiss him.
Germany was so gentle and patient with him. Even when he'd hurt the man that one time, back when Germany had first tried to confess his feelings for him. It had all been a terrible misunderstanding. But things were clear between them now, weren't they?
Nearly shyly, Ludwig deepened the kiss, nibbling the man's underlip first before he pushed his tongue in. Romance books described kisses as being electric. Ludwig thought it was more wet, but he didn't mind. In fact, he liked it a lot. More than he'd expected to, in fact.
He felt shivers run down his spine when Feliciano moaned into the kiss. Normally, Ludwig wasn't a very excitable man. Strict orders dictated his life. Until he'd met this person, that was. Forgetting all he still had to do, Germany led Italy to his bed, where they fell down with a soft plop. Clothes were shed quickly, buttons fell to the floor with a clattering sound and they were both undressed more than soon enough.
Germany loved how Italy looked now. Hair all tousled and cheeks flushed with desire, Italy was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. And Ludwig had to blush, remembering that he'd been the one to make the man like look this. Yes, he thought - blushing even more - he really liked seeing Italy like this: panting with need.
And he felt like kicking himself in the head for it because it was so shameless. So utterly, utterly shameless.
But it got easier each time. Ludwig continued to trail Feliciano's neck with kisses, only pausing every now and then to look up at his lover's face. Not only because he liked – loved, in fact – observing his face, but because he wanted to make sure that Italy liked this. That he was fine with what was going on. Ludwig had read that it was the utmost responsibility of a good lover to ensure that your partner was always (and perfectly) satisfied.
Ludwig wanted more than anything for Feliciano to be happy. He wanted Italy to trust him. Thinking that, Ludwig moved his face down the man's chest, passing nipples on the way, until he reached his groin. He could see how aroused Feliciano was. His erection stood out proud, and pre-cum was leaking from the head. Germany knew what he had to do. Without further ado, he took Italy's cock into his mouth. He started to suck slowly, only taking in a little of the man's penis. Once Hungary, in front of a rather red-faced Austria, had told him that this was the proper way to go about a blow job.
So, he only continued like this for a while, each time taking the cock deeper into his mouth. He didn't listen to anything but Italy's moans, felt nothing but the man's hands gripping his shoulders and thought of nothing but prolonging the pleasure for Feliciano.
Ludwig paused. He felt fingernails dig into his skin. That hurt. But he willed the hurt away, and closing his eyes, continued with what he'd been doing before.
Feliciano moaned and thrashed. He let go of his grip on Germany's shoulders. Instead, he dug his fingernails into the white sheets, hissing each time he felt Germany's hot mouth engulf him. The hissing grew into gasps when the sucking was replaced by licking. Germany was now circling his tip with licks. Doing so gently, teasingly nearly. For a moment, Italy opened his eyes. The sight alone was nearly enough to bring over the edge.
He bucked upwards, hips thrusting nearly frantically into Germany's mouth. Then, he only felt that powerless sensation. The tightening in his stomach was let loose. His groans grew harsher, more demanding.
Ludwig nearly chocked on the cum. He hadn't expected that much. Still, he swallowed, nearly obediently.
"I'm sorry- I should have warned you," Italy said. Germany's eyes widened in surprise when the smaller man rose from his position and licked the remaining semen away from his mouth. Ludwig shuddered, closing his eyes.
Italy sighed happily, and settled back on the bed again.
"Germany, it's fine now – I think I'm ready," Feliciano whined, trying to his best not to sound too desperate. He knew that happened to grate on Germany's nerves. And yet, this was too much for him to bear. He was hard again. Germany's fingers had done it. He needed to feel the man inside of him. Needed to. Or he'd go crazy. He just wanted to be close to Germany - that was all.
Ludwig nodded, awkwardly. Without another word, he reached for the lube that lay on the shelf. Germany did his best not meet Italy's eyes, knowing that they were fixed on him and watching his movements.
"Germany, come on," Feliciano finally said, his patience breaking. He realised that if he didn't do something now, he'd go mad. So, he took the lube from Germany's somewhat trembling hand and – uncapping it – was about to prepare himself when the other man stopped him. Germany's grip on his wrist was nearly painful.
"What? Are you not in the mood-" Feliciano started, voice breaking a little. Had he done something wrong now? "I'm sorry if I-"
He was silenced by a brief kiss.
"I'll do it, Feliciano," Germany said hoarsely.
For a moment, Italy paused. He'd never heard Germany call him by his name before. It was only "Italy" or "you". But not Feliciano. Looking up into the man's face, he could discern the flush. And yet, he could also see that his blue eyes were also full of lust. And warm affection. It wasn't just about the sex. Then, Italy didn't want to do this because he was into the sex.
"I thought you were scared," Feliciano admitted, but happily complied. He'd just wanted to make things easier for Germany (and himself).
"I'm not scared. Not anymore," Germany said as he poured the substance on his sweaty palm. When Italy wasn't looking – he didn't want to be observed – he nearly gingerly rubbed his cock with the lube. He took a deep breath when he was done. Ludwig knew he was red in the face. Then again, he couldn't be blamed. He wasn't an expert at this yet.
"You ready?" Italy asked enthusiastically while he laid on the bed again. He reddened slightly when Germany looked at him from above. Italy wondered what he looked like. The bedsheets weren't a satin red, but they did make him look different. More tanned, perhaps? He really didn't know.
Ludwig silenced Italy with a kiss. Feliciano spread his legs obligingly, waiting for Germany to enter him. His breath hitched when he felt his lover's arousal brushing against his own. If he'd looked down now, Italy was sure he'd meet with a pulsing red cock. But he didn't look down. He was too busy waiting for it to happen.
"I'm going to put it now," Ludwig said in a tone of warning as he entered Italy slowly. He'd have done in one swift move; however, Italy wasn't ready for that yet. So, he entered slowly, trying to slide in gently. Sweat covered his forehead and he grit his teeth. Feliciano was tight and hot. So hot and tight that it cost all of Germany's self-control not to start pounding into that tight hole right there and now.
'But I have a purpose to fulfil,' he told himself.
Italy tried his best not to moan out as soon as he felt Germany filling him. He wrapped his legs tighter around the taller man's waist. Italy licked his lips in anticipation of feeing Germany move inside of him. Finally.
But nothing happened. Germany was still nuzzling his neck. His fingers were still buried in his hair and playing with loose strands.
"You can move now, Germany. Please," Feliciano whimpered. He'd never been strong. And he was defenceless like this. His own cock was hard again, throbbing with need. Germany was prolonging this unnecessarily.
Ludwig knew that Feliciano was frustrated. He was as well. But then he had to do this. He had to ask. He just didn't know how to get this done. Face flushing and heart beating nervously against his ribcage, he tore his mouth away from Italy's deliciously soft neck and looked him into the face. Italy looked worried.
"What is the matter, Germany?" Italy asked, his hand reaching upwards to touch Ludwig's face. His fingers ran tenderly over German's cheek. Germany shuddered. He looked away, not able to meet Italy's face right now. Yet, Germany forced himself to find the courage. He'd been through worse than this.
So, he met Italy's eyes again. This time, he didn't flinch when Feliciano repeated his question.
"I'll...move, but only if you do something for me," Germany said quickly. So quickly that Italy would have missed it if he hadn't been paying attention.
"You know, I'd do anything for you!" And Italy meant it. He really did. He'd promised that he'd save Germany from any pinch. He'd never go back on his words.
"Then ... saymynameplease." Germany blushed redder. He coughed.
"What?" Italy asked, not having understood a word.
"Say my name. Ludwig - not Germany. Just once. I'd like you to call me 'Ludwig'."
Italy's hand fell away from Germany's face and he shuddered. But then his face broke into a smile. Germa-no, Ludwig – was kind of cute - sweet even. Just like Holy Roman Empire had been cute. Sometimes, if Italy thought about it, they looked similar. Germany had the same blue eyes.
"Yes, I will," Feliciano promised, wrapping his arm's around Ludwig's neck, thus pulling him flush against his body. "Just please move, Ludwig. Move!"
Germany needed no other invitation. Something inside of him snapped. And he started to thrust, but gently at first. However, his thrusts quickly grew into something more passionate. The bed creaked under them. Neither of the men paid attention though. They were otherwise engaged.
"Ludwig, Ludwig, Ludwig," Italy kept groaning out while his fingernails scratched angry red marks on Germany's back. Once or twice, Ludwig hissed but the slight burning sensation was nothing compared to being inside of Italy. And yet it wasn't enough. He wanted to be deeper. So, he moved his hips even more frantically.
Feliciano had long since stopped thinking coherently. He could only feel Germany inside of him. And the only sound he heard was the slapping of skin against skin. His eyes were screwed shut. He was nibbling on his underlip, so hardly that it was enough to draw blood. Indeed, when Ludwig's cock nearly hit his prostate, Italy felt the coppery taste of blood flooding his mouth. But he didn't feel the pain, being far too busy to meet Ludwig's thrusts with his own.
Ludwig was pretty close himself. He kissed Feliciano again. A bit surprised, he noticed that Italy tasted of blood, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered. Feeling it wouldn't last much longer for either of them, Germany brought a trembling hand to Italy's still aching erection. He wrapped his hand around Italy's cock and started to stroke. Quickly. This wasn't the time to tease. He never broke the kiss.
Feliciano tore his mouth from Ludwig's. He came with a cry, spilling semen all over his stomach. He was pretty sure that Germany wouldn't like the mess later on. But right now, Ludwig didn't seem to mind. He was still thrusting – sloppily and nearly clumsily now.
"I love you," Ludwig whispered into Feliciano's ear as he came, shuddering and panting. He collapsed on top of Feliciano's chest. Even though Germany had pulled out, he remained in that position for a while, resting his head on Italy's chest. He liked listening to Feliciano's steady heartbeat.
Italy nearly froze. But then he smiled. He didn't have any doubts about this anymore. "I love you too, Ludwig."