Greetings all~ Oh what an awful week this is. I hope you are all fairing much better than myself -laughs- This is for DMFAZINA, my 400th reviewer for You and I~
Theme: sex on piano
This took a while to write because I'm not used to the characters. I did try my best with keeping them in character. And well... it was hard trying to imagine how sex on a piano might go -laughs- I hope you enjoy.
P.S. You really shouldn't have sex on a piano, those things are expensive~
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or Chopin's music or even a piano.
Switzerland fumes silently as he stares out the window. It seems that every time he tries to enjoy a moment with his precious sister Liechtenstein he is reminded of that bastard who shall remain nameless. He doesn't get it. It had been a long time since he has even acknowledged his existence. Any tie they once had was firmly severed.
A hand touches his shoulder and he glares fiercely up. "Hn?"
Liechtenstein looks down at him with wide, startled eyes. "I-I'm sorry! Are you alright brother? You look so upset. I... I was just w-worried."
The angry lines in his face smooth out and he reaches up, patting her head fondly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to worry you. I just have something unpleasant on my mind."
She takes his hand, green eyes earnestly looking into his face. "Oh please big brother, if there is anything I can do to help... Even if you just need someone to listen I'm here."
Switzerland smiles softly at her. His sweet little Liechtenstein. No, he absolutely can not keep having that idiot be associated with her. He'd have to clear it up somehow. He has to put the bastard on a different level than her...
Switzerland stands up. "I have to go pay someone a visit Liechtenstein. Be a good girl and stay inside. Don't talk to any strangers. And keep a gun on you at all times. You remember where they are correct? Be careful."
Liechtenstein nods. She wants to go with him but he looks rather determined and he is putting trust in her to look out for herself while he is gone. "Yes, please take care big brother!"
She hugs him tightly. He blushes and pats her affectionately. "We'll do something fun when I return. But then we have to do more training, alright?"
She nods. "Alright! Have a good time."
"Hmph, we'll see about that," he mutters.
When Austria is pulled away from his beloved music to answer the door the last thing he expects to see on the other side is a very disgruntled Switzerland. For a moment he stands there, unsure of what to say.
Switzerland glares at him. "You going to stand there like an idiot?"
With a brisk shake of his head he pushes past Austria and into the house unbidden. Austria follows him, rather flustered. Finally his tongue remembers how to work. "Va-"
One death glance from Switzerland make the name stop dead on his lips and he backtracks.
"Switzerland, er, this is so unexpected. I... May I ask what are you doing here?"
Switzerland stops and looks around himself, then looks at Austria. His bright green eyes are piercing and he looks as if he disapproves of absolutely everything around him. "You're so...artsy."
Austria is not sure he has ever heard someone make such a harmless word so sharp. Switzerland is good at that. At least around him. "I...I apologize?"
Switzerland scowls, eyebrows knitting together. "You're so weak. It shames me that we ever knew each other."
Austria's face becomes a grim, hardened mask. "Is there some reason you came here or did you just wish to insult me?"
Switzerland turns away. "Hmph. I don't know what I'm doing here yet. What were you doing before I arrived?"
Austria is baffled. "I was...playing the piano. A Chopin piece. What do you mean you don't know? Did your boss send you for some reason? Should I know about this?"
Switzerland waves a hand impatiently. "No. This has nothing to do with politics. Of course you were playing piano. It's always piano with you, or violin, or something soft. There's no hardness to you. Very well, return to playing piano then."
Austria opens his mouth but doesn't know what to say. The very fact that Switzerland is here at all still has him thrown for a loop. With a gentle sigh and an adjustment to his glasses Austria decides to just see how things develop. Walking stiffly, made self-conscious by Switzerland's sharp gaze on his back, Austria returns to his piano. He takes a seat and fiddles with his sheet music.
Switzerland stands apart from him, not wanting to get too close but liking the feeling of towering over the seated man. The height difference is just barely there but it pisses him off. How is this aristocrat taller than him? Someone is always supporting him so one would think he would be rather small. Though he is somewhat frail looking. Delicate almost. Soft features, soft shapes, soft hands.
"Is Hungary here?" Switzerland looks around, as if expecting her to appear any moment. One always had to watch oneself around her. Protective creature that she is, one misspoken syllable and you had a frying pan cracking against your skull.
"Ah...No, she left to do some errands. She won't be back until later." Austria suddenly looks even more uncomfortable. He feels vulnerable without Hungary's warm and shielding gaze watching over him.
"Hn. Well are you going to play or not bastard?"
Austria clears his throat, frowns at the music before him, then sets his fingers on the keys as gently as a lover. Those long aristocratic fingers spin magic. No matter how much Austria's weakness pisses Switzerland off, even he cannot deny the beauty his hands (soft hands) play so well.
Switzerland becomes lost in the melody, some of his anger slipping away to be replaced with nostalgia. Eventually his gaze jumps to Austria's face. It is poised and serene, only a small crease between the eyebrows as he listens to every note to ensure perfection. In that moment he is quite radiant, a manifestation of the music, breathing with the piano and doing its will flawlessly.
A lump forms in Switzerland's throat and he swallows. Austria is transformed, no longer something irritating but rather a creature as lovely as the music he plays. The way Austria plays... it's almost erotic. Switzerland's face becomes warm at the thought, his body reacting ever so slightly to the image. Those hands treating him with such expert care...
The hands stop, the abrupt silence feeling like an affront. Switzerland finds himself frowning. "Why did you stop?"
Austria shakes his head slowly. "Not quite right... One of the keys is off. The piano really must be tuned, it's been too long."
Switzerland shrugs. "I couldn't hear anything wrong with it."
Austria stands and squints into the complicated wiring of the piano. "A piano is an intricate thing. If one doesn't know it well enough-"
A flash of anger. Switzerland bridges the distance between them and grabs the other man's shoulder, pulling him so that violate eyes meet green. "Don't talk down to me! My watches are world famous. So are my guns. Don't you talk to me about intricate. I know how to handle intricate, delicate things."
Switzerland reaches up and cups Austria's face, a gloved thumb running over his mole. Austria shivers, his face flushing immediately.
"Wh-what do you think you're doing?" His voice is a meek exclamation of surprise.
Switzerland tilts the face down, repeating his earlier motion to elicit another shiver. "I'm going to make a clear distinction between the two of you."
The lust clears a bit into puzzlement but doesn't last long before Switzerland pulls Austria close and presses their lips together. Switzerland will make him dirty, nothing like the pure and sweet Liechtenstein.
Licking Austria's lower lip, Switzerland pulls away to see the other's general reaction. Austria is flushed, frazzled, silent. This annoys Switzerland.
"Well? Is that all? Not even a single 'No'?"
Austria puts a hand to his mouth and looks away and still he says nothing, simply backing further against his piano. Switzerland presses against him, hands fumbling with the other country's pants. The most he gets is a small gasp as he slides a hand down and takes hold of Austria's cock, calloused hand working against delicate flesh. He is rewarded with a rather quick response. At least Austria won't be soft here.
Austria closes his eyes tightly and bites back a noise. Switzerland continues working the shaft, teasing harshly. "Why don't you tell me to stop? Why don't you fight back? For all you know I'll quit the second you tell me to. Are you really so weak?"
Austria looks at him, expression a mixture of desire and despair. And still he says nothing.
"Then you deserve everything you get. I hate your weakness. I always have."
Switzerland removes his hand and starts to force Austria's coat from his shoulders, tossing it aside. Austria makes a small sound of protest and Switzerland snorts.
"You'll protest the treatment of your clothing over the treatment of your body? You really are useless. Damned lucky Hungary is there for you or you'd be hopeless as always."
Austria manages to look indignant but Switzerland ignores his face, more intent on the buttons of his shirt. It too is tossed aside, soon followed by his jabot. Switzerland assesses the situation. Austria is smooth and of course, soft, quite lovely really. Though even he has his scars. Ironically some were from his new protector, from when they were still young. He's trembling, Switzerland realizes. It warrants no sympathy from him.
Switzerland runs a finger down his sternum, taps his elegant collarbone, shakes his head. "It is no wonder you could never win any battles. Your personality and body are both that of an artist even if you were born to fight."
Austria sighs wistfully. "I did try."
Switzerland puts a finger to the other's lips. "I don't want to hear you talk idiot."
He leans up and kisses Austria again, one hand tracing along the bare chest. He suddenly pulls back impatiently and bites the tip of his gloves, pulling it off in one swift motion. If he's going to do this he wants to feel it.
The barrier gone, he roughly seals their lips once more, tracing small circles along Austria's torso. Grabbing the open edge of the piano with his free hand he presses his knee between Austria's legs, making the pompous fool press needfully against him.
Switzerland pulls away just to see the blushing, wanting look on Austria's face. "Hmph, don't even have the dignity of shame?"
Austria swallows hard finally showing some proper embarrassment. "Must you mock me too?"
Switzerland does not smile or frown. A neutral expression befitting a neutral man. "I think I do."
Austria bows his head. This is not the first time a country has put him in this position. Not even close to the first time. He knows the result. If there is no Hungary or someone to jump in then the result is inevitable. Shame always comes sooner or later, but at least this time it is Switzerland. That makes it more tolerable. If only he wasn't so hurtful about it...
Switzerland's eyes jump just past Austria's head. "...Close your piano."
Austria suddenly frowns, blinking at the demand. "Wh-what?"
Switzerland grabs his chin, irritated. "Don't you dare start questioning me now. You lost your opportunity. Now close it."
The two stare each other down for a moment, Austria's eyes finally flickering away. Switzerland releases him and gives him room to accomplish his task. Austria turns and carefully closes the lid of his piano so it lies flat, giving it a loving caresses. When he turns back Switzerland is shrugging out of his green military coat, tossing it aside as casually as he had Austria's. Soon he sheds his shirt.
"Take off your shoes," he snaps at Austria as he crouches to remove his own.
Austria silently begins to obey, not quite sure how his increasing nudity is linked to his piano. It doesn't take him long to find out. The moment he straightens up Switzerland stares at him intently, demandingly. "Get on the piano."
Austria blanches then becomes indignant. "You can't be serious!"
Switzerland puts a hand on his hip—his body is so slender despite its strength, Austria marvels—and glowers at him. "Of course I'm serious!"
Austria begins to shake his head. "That's ludicrous! For heaven's sake, it's an antique!"
Switzerland shrugs one shoulder. "Looks solid enough to me. I'm sure it can take our weight."
A truly appalled look appears. "Take our-?! This must be a tasteless joke! Just how much weight do you think it can hold?"
Switzerland leans in close, their chests almost touching. "Enough for me to take you on top of it."
Austria turns all sorts of red at that comment. Impatient, Switzerland pushes him up against the piano. "Come on Roderich."
The use of that name is like a golden key. Clearing his throat, Austria weakly murmurs, "I swear if it is damaged in any way I more than expect you to pay for repairs or compensation. And it will be a heavy price. I love this piano."
Switzerland looks bored. Austria takes hold of the sides of the piano and begins to lift himself with shaky arms. Before he is all the way on Switzerland grabs his already loosened pants and begins to tug them—and everything beneath—down, allowing them to fall carelessly on the floor. Austria sits shivering, vulnerable, and completely nude on the edge of his precious grand piano. He feels a bit ill.
Switzerland catches himself admiring the other nation and chastises himself. This is about tarnishing his previous memories with Austria, that's all. With this firm reminder to himself he grabs Austria's knees and pushes them open wider, shooing Austria's censuring (soft) hands away.
"Sw-Switzerland don't-" His protests are weak, Switzerland muses. Just like him.
Switzerland leans in and licks the mostly hardened member before encasing it with his mouth. Austria gasps and fidgets uncomfortably as the other man begins to suck. One of Austria's hands remain poised in the air, like a conductor building anticipation through stillness. He wants to touch the soft blond hair that creates a modest curtain around Switzerland's face and brushes teasingly against his legs from time to time. He's always wanted to touch that hair. But the act seems forbidden, too intimate even in this situation.
Austria finally leans back, using his elbows to support his shivering frame. Low moans escape his lips as he watches Switzerland bob between his legs through eyes half-lidded with lust. The sight alone is as arousing as the act.
Switzerland pulls away from the now fully erect member, licking the side of his lip. His hard eyes pierce Austria once more. "Move further up so I have room to get on."
Austria doesn't even pretend to protest anymore. His whole body is trembling with need. Switzerland finishes stripping as Austria situates himself, somewhat embarrassed to see that he has started getting hard too. Of course if he wasn't how else could he expect to go through with this? It still bothers him to acknowledge that the idiot is turning him on. It's all those lusty sounds and that soft flesh.
Taking hold of the piano, Switzerland easily and smoothly hauls himself up onto the piano, holding his breath a moment as he waits to see if it will take their combined weight. It does. With cautious, slow movements he crawls to the middle of the piano between Austria's legs. Austria stares up at him silently. Even now with all his wanting he manages to look almost dignified. As if lying naked on a piano is a matter of course.
Switzerland considers it. He had just wanted to get right to it and have it done but he isn't quite... up to it yet. He leans down, lips barely brushing Austria's. "Touch me."
Austria's eyes waver but his expression is determined. Soon those hands that play Chopin like an angel are roaming Switzerland's chest, back, shoulders, stomach, sides. Anything they can touch they do. Switzerland kisses him deeply, their tongues intertwining awkwardly. In a moment of inspiration Austria uses the command to run his fingers through golden hair. Thick and straight, not quite as silky as it looks but still pleasant to touch.
Switzerland breaks the kiss and travels down an elegant neck, careful not to leave incriminating evidence with each feather-light caress of his lips. Austria finds Switzerland's cheek and cups it, stroking the skin lightly, brushing gently against his mouth. Switzerland takes one of the wandering fingers into his mouth and nibbles it. Ah, he had been wrong. The hands aren't completely soft. There are indeed callouses. The kind one gets from playing stringed instruments.
Heavy petting and gentle friction soon work their ways on Switzerland and his body aches with need. He adjusts his legs so that he is almost kneeling, pulling Austria's legs up so they rest across to put his pelvis at a slight angle. He places his hands flat on either side of Austria's head. The two of them look at one another for a moment, breathing heavily, before Switzerland starts fingering Austria's hole. Austria squirms and makes sounds that aren't quite moans. More like whimpers. Would he even lose his dignity? Switzerland wonders. It will be better if he does.
Feeling somewhat spiteful, Switzerland decides not to properly prepare him and begins to position himself.
Austria frowns. "What are you...? I... I can't, it's been too long since I've been with another man."
Switzerland strokes his inner thigh. "And this is my problem?"
Austria gives him a look of pure contempt. "You have no heart."
"Not for you," is the glib reply. In one slow, steady motion Switzerland presses into Austria.
Austria arches his back and winces, shaking his head. "O-ow...I can't... I can't breathe."
"You can breathe. Don't act as if you're so delicate."
With that he pulls out and rocks in again. More discomfort. Austria focuses on trying to breathe, trying to relax. As if to spite him at every turn, Switzerland begins to kiss him again, making it even more difficult to catch his breath. Austria opens his eyes and sees that Switzerland is watching him. A chill goes down his spine but he can't quite make himself close his eyes to escape that inscrutable gaze.
The beginning is pure discomfort for Austria. Switzerland's clashing harshness and intimate caresses, the hard piano that is unyielding and almost resentful against the rocking of his body, the dull throb caused by Switzerland's cock. He grips Switzerland's shoulders so hard his knuckles turn white, leaving crescent shaped marks in the skin. Not to mention the nagging concern that at any moment his piano may buckle and be thoroughly destroyed.
The discomfort begins to melt slowly and Switzerland soon falls into a steady, no-nonsense rhythm. The sweat that soon coats his back helps stop the chaffing of the piano rubbing against him. Switzerland moans against his neck and Austria sighs pleasantly. A piece of music comes to him that matches Switzerland's thrusting and he's so glad the man is such an ordered person. The music immediately soothes his body and soul.
As the music quickens in his mind, Austria presses more insistently against Switzerland, increasing the pace. Switzerland groans and bites Austria's lip. Austria smiles very slightly.
Physical sensation, warmth, weight. The body is an instrument to be played as well. Austria loves Hungary. He always will. Will he feel guilty for this later? Perhaps. But it is not the same for countries. Nothing is ever the same...
And how can he deny the man, who when Hungary had left him beaten and bleeding and defeated, had always been there to pick him up and take him home? There is no other country in the world he would tolerate the desecration of his sacred piano with such a lewd act. Not a single one. Only Switzerland.
Switzerland is having a hard time keeping himself from leaving marks across Austria's body. Proof that he has been here and has this beautiful body beneath him, that he has fucked it. He licks Austria's neck, hoping it won't redden the skin too much. Austria begins to moan beneath him, his muscles tightening suddenly. He shudders pleasantly at the sudden pressure. Seems he has hit a sweet note.
His rhythm immediately picks up, trying hard to hit the proper notes again and again. Austria begins to sing out all sorts of pretty sounds, keening and moaning and begging in half-words. Beneath them is the flat, dull sound of the wood being pounded.
Bodies joined, moving, greedily pressing together until the piano beneath them begins to protest with phantom sounds. It is ignored. Switzerland doesn't care if the thing cracks in half. Nothing will stop him in his mission, especially not now. Austria seems to have forgotten his concern for it as well, squirming beneath him, hands on Switzerland's hips as if urging him for more. This lusty cretin is nothing like his Liechtenstein. There will be no comparison ever again. And then it strikes him, like a blow to the heart, that this is not necessarily the advantage he had thought it might be.
Instead of childhood memories flashing before him he would instead remember Austria, face flushed and glasses askew, panting beneath him. His face burns with embarrassment at the thought. Austria pulls him closer and begins to kiss him, arms wrapping around him tightly.
Switzerland thinks of stopping this whole thing for less than a second. It is much too late for that, and he himself is in too much bliss. The consequences would be what they would be. Switzerland presses their lips together, all tongue, just as he begins to press more quickly into Austria. The movements are interfering with the symphony in Austria's mind. He has little time to care. Lifting his leg to allow Switzerland better access, a spike of pleasure shoots through his spine and he gasps, pressing erratically against Switzerland as he rides out his orgasm.
"V-Vash!" he cries out. And how much sweeter his release is when saying that name.
As Austria's muscles tighten around him and he presses against him Switzerland comes with a low groan, as if afraid to voice the pleasure that makes him so weak he can't help but collapse against Austria.
Such a moment of weaknesses is horribly embarrassing, even when caused by such sensual sensations, and so he slowly turns and kisses Austria's cheek. As if that had been his intention all along. Surprised by the oddly endearing gesture, Austria reaches up and slides his fingers once more through the blonde's hair affectionately.
Once he has regained his strength, Switzerland sits up. He raises an eyebrow at Austria's disheveled appearance and the cum on his stomach. "You are a complete mess."
Austria frowns up at him. "And just who made me that way?"
Switzerland begins to back up and drops off the side, holding onto the edge of the piano until he knows his legs will hold him. His body is physically exhausted. Austria starts to sit up, crawling towards the edge, becoming once more conscious of his nudity.
Switzerland pulls his pants on, starts buttoning his shirt as his eyes seek out one of his gloves.
Austria tries to slick back his hair, sitting self-consciously on the edge of his piano. "...Are you leaving already?"
Switzerland doesn't look up at him. "Yes. I did what I came to do."
"And what exactly was that?"
There is no response as Switzerland pulls on his gloves then shrugs into his coat. Finally he turns to face him. "This never happened. If you tell people it did I'll deny it. And I don't want to hear a word about it ever again."
Austria's hands come to rest in his lap, expression becoming sorrowful. "...I see. I suppose it can't be helped."
Switzerland pulls his boots on, trying to avoid looking at Austria. He would not let that idiot make him feel guilty. What is done is done. Without another word he stands and starts to walk away.
"Would you please just come here for a second?"
Switzerland pauses. Grumbling he finally turns and walks up to Austria, whole body defensive. "What?"
Austria touches his cheek and leans down, kissing him lightly. Switzerland's body goes stiff. When Austria pulls away he looks at him with eyes that are used to disappointment. "Goodbye Vash. I'm sorry things worked out the way they did."
Switzerland turns sharply, face flushed. "Goodbye...Roderich."
With that he rapidly walks away, escaping what he has done, escaping those soft hands that make music. Why should he feel bad? Austria is the one who had treated him like he owned him back then. Even after all the times he had saved him. No, he won't feel guilty, and now he won't look at Liechtenstein and remember him either.
After what feels like a long time Austria gets off his piano. Before even dressing himself he gathers supplies and cleans the top with great care, erasing any blemish to the surface. He gathers his clothes. A shower. He needs a shower. He pauses then turns back to the piano. He reaches down and lovingly strokes one of the keys. Closing his eyes he presses down on the key over and over again.
"This is the one that is off."
His hand slips from the key and he walks slowly from the room. Why did he have to do that? Why did he have to dash his hopes in one of his most beloved places? And he would never acknowledge it. But that is just so Switzerland.
Liechtenstein comes across her brother staring out the window again. He looks thoughtful, maybe sad. She stands at his side. "Big brother...Are you alright?"
Switzerland looks up at her and almost cracks with regret. He holds it back. Taking one of her small, delicate hands (they are soft hands too) he presses it to his cheek. "I am so sorry."
She looks at him worriedly. "What's the matter big brother? Did something happen? Can I help?"
He kisses her fingers softly. "No, it's nothing. Please don't worry about me."
She wishes that he would tell her what is on his chest but knows that there are times when silence is all that can be shared. She will just have to try and be cheerful to make him feel better. "Did you have a good time while you were away?"
Switzerland suddenly looks away, his face flushed. "Hmph. As if I would with that idiot."
Liechtenstein tilts her head. "Oh, were you with Mr. Austria?"
Switzerland winces. "How did you-?"
She smiles. "That's always who big brother means when he says 'that idiot.' What did the two of you do? Was it business?"
Switzerland looks out the window again quickly. "N-no. We... we made music."
Liechtenstein clasps her hands together. "How fun! Did it sound very pretty?"
Switzerland is silent for a long moment. Finally he lets out a short, dry laugh. "Yes...It was beautiful."
AN: Austria is very beautiful to me, he really is. Though I found it odd when I looked up Switzerland and Austria fics out of curiosity most of them had Austria as the top? He is such a bottom it's ridiculous. Especially when put with the very intense Switzerland. Austria tops no one, not even Hungary -laughs-
Austria's mole is his erogenous zone apparently.
I just liked how the title sounded for those of you who might be wondering what it could possibly have to do with the story -laughs-