Germany wakes up with a splitting headache and he has absolutely no idea where he is. The last thing he remembers is talking to Prussia in a bar, him being half drunk, the albino yelling at the top of his voice with someone next to him... Someone... He cannot remember who the other person was and groans as he takes in his surroundings. He's trapped, in what looks like a pathetic excuse for a jail cell - the concrete floor is far too clean, the cell is way too spacious... He frowns, trying to think straight when he feels a sharp pain against his head. His hands are in shackles and so are his legs - the furthest he can go is a metre away from the wall he's chained to. His clothes are a little grimy and he wonders why because his surroundings are actually rather... Spotless.

The sound of footsteps echoes in the cell and Germany freezes. He's desperately trying to remember who the other person he went drinking was when he sees a shadow fall across the cell... And it hits him, the mystery person is none other than Austria. He swallows nervously, thinking of what might have happened to Prussia and Austria if he had been... Kidnapped, which was the only logical explanation for his current predicament. Knowing Austria and how delicate it was, he would have never been able to fight off anyone and Prussia was defenceless when he was dead drunk. His heartbeat quickens as the sound of footsteps grows in a crescendo, coming closer and does his best to fight off the horrible images of what may have happened to the two, squeezing his blue eyes shut when he hears an icy cold voice speak.

"Open your eyes."

Germany freezes. The voice is so painfully familiar and his heart skips a couple of beats as he finds himself obeying, looking up slowly, only to find himself face to face with Austria.

"Austria," Germany whispers, mouth dry, heart hammering hard against his chest. He had never thought of the Austrian as someone who was capable of... This, and yet... He gulped. "What do you want?" he asked, doing his best to keep fear out of his voice. Everything felt wrong - he had never been afraid of the Austrian, and yet...

Austria's violet eyes narrowed. "What do you think?" he asked, tone mocking. He looks at the German with thinly disguised condescension, moving closer.

The blond gulps nervously. He doesn't know the answer and the throbbing pain in his head makes it difficult for him to think straight, so the first thing he asks is "Where's Prussia?"

Austria merely shrugs. "Does it matter?"

Germany grits his teeth. "Why are you doing this?" he asks, mouth dry. This isn't the Austria he knows, something, someone out there had done something to him and was now controlling him... He stares at Austria, long and hard.

Austria doesn't answer. Instead, he looks down at the blond, pursing his lips. A chair seems to appear out of nowhere - either that or Germany didn't notice its presence a moment ago - and the brunet sits down and crosses his legs. His violet eyes gleam in the dim candlelight and its nothing like what Germany is used to. Germany's body is screaming at him to get out, to break loose from his shackles while his mind's fighting against it, wanting him to stay, willing him to know why Austria has imprisoned him. He takes a deep breath and looks up, sticking his chin out as if he's challenging the other nation.

"Touch yourself."

Germany blinks, unable to believe what he has just heard.

"Must I repeat myself?" Austria asks sharply. Germany meets his gaze and holds it but the brunet breaks it seconds later. He walks closer to where the German is bound to and kicks his legs apart. The blond wonders where the brunet had acquired his strength from and freezes as he feels a sharp, pointed shoe against his crotch.

"Touch yourself," Austria repeats and Germany scrambles to obey as Austria presses his shoe further in. A jolt of electricity passes through the blond - the way Austria's looking at him is as if he wants to dominate him completely and its incredibly arousing - as he reaches for his belt, unbuckling it, then proceeding to undo his fly, freeing his semi hard length as the brunet removes his foot, satisfied. He retreats to the chair, crossing his legs. "Well, what are you waiting for?" he asks, a mild trace of irritation in his voice.

Germany tries to visualise something, anything that would get a reaction from his body but when he closes his eyes, all he can think of is whether Prussia is alright and about what made Austria undergo a complete personality change... Until Austria clears his throat and somehow, in the darkness, he can just about see him sprawled out before him, a blush gracing his pale cheeks, looking away, wrists tied to the bedposts, clad in nothing but a white shirt... He groans as he clings to the vision, hot fingertips dancing cross his length, growing harder as he envisions kissing the brunet despite knowing how wrong it is due to who his captor is.

Germany's fingers are tracing circles on the underside of his length now and it feels incredibly good as he imagines himself bending forward, licking at Austria's entrance, tongue slowly entering, slicking it up, groping around in the darkness for some oil - just any type of oil - knocking down a couple of bottles in the first place and he uncorks the bottle, letting the warm liquid coat his fingers and reaches forward to swirl it against the tight ring of muscle and pushing past it, inch by inch, until he's in knuckle deep, probing, exploring, searching for that spot that makes the Austrian cry out in pleasure. He sees himself finding it, causing the brunet to arch his back and jerk against his palm as his fingers wrap themselves around his shaft, index and thumb forming a ring around which to thrust into.

Germany unbuttons his shirt - he doesn't really care about anything any more - and his fingers find a nipple, rock hard and when the soft pads of his fingertips brush against it he moans audibly as his fingers work their way up his length and back down to his leaking tip, spreading the sticky wetness. His eyes are closed but he knows that Austria is watching and strangely the thought turns him on and he thrusts harder into his palm, all because Austria is watching.

His mind returns to the fantasy of Austria he has built up - he has three fingers in the brunet now and he's moaning, begging, asking for more as the tip of the German's fingers elude that sweet spot stroke after stroke and he's grinding into the bed but the blond will have none of it. He pushes Austria's hips upwards so that the only contact he has is that of his tip rubbing against the bedsheets and the Austrian groans, hands struggling against their bonds in a sick parody of what the German is going through as he presses himself backwards, eager for more of his touch. Germany uses his palm to rub against his tip, groaning as the callouses brush against the sensitive skin while he thinks about parting Austria's legs as far as he can and entering him in a single thrust, hardened length fully lubricated, sliding into the tight heat...

The blond was moaning in ecstasy as he stroked himself, fingers tracing circles on the underside of his length, moving down to massage his balls as his other hand took over, stroking slowly as he thought of gripping Austria's length, teasing him as he thrust hard and fast into him, savouring his heated flesh.

Austria stares at Germany - its difficult for him to keep looking and not touch the growing tightness in his breeches, he desperately wants to touch it, to feel the friction - he takes a deep, shuddering breath and continues, feeling his cheeks burn as he watches Germany pleasuring himself.

"Slower," the brunet commands, noticing the German's close to his climax. He doesn't know that in Germany's mind, he's actually commanding, no, screaming at him to go faster, thrashing wildly beneath him, bucking his hips against his, desperate for him to thrust deeper.

Germany's eyes open for a fraction of a second, momentarily blurring the lines between reality and fantasy and then they flutter close as he returns to thoughts of Austria begging him for release as he prevents the brunet from attaining it by grinding against anything, intent on making him climax only through slow thrusts into him. His fingers reach forward to play with Austria's dusty pink nipples, hardened, erect and terribly sensitive. The violet eyed man yelps as the blond tweaks them and scrapes a fingernail across and collapses into a series of moans as he increases the speed of his thrusting.

The brunet watches as the blond's fingers work themselves up and down his shaft, pumping, stroking, fingering his balls and his tip, bringing him to completion. He hasn't heard Austria's command but its not as if the Austrian can bring himself to enforce it any more - he desperately wants to touch himself, to bury himself to the hilt in something, someone, anyone but more importantly, he wishes that Germany isn't thrusting into his hand, but into him, screaming his name instead of moaning incoherently. He doesn't know which gives him more pain - his unfulfilled desire from the hardness straining against his breeches or his desire for the German to take him despite knowing how impossible it was.

The blond knows that his climax is near but in his mind, he has yet to bring Austria to completion so he holds back, thrusts harder, breathing harsh and erratic. His thrusts are angled so that they hit the brunet's sweet spot but its getting difficult because he's too close but he tries and within seconds, the violet eyed man is definitely calling out his name, they're both so close... Germany strokes faster, fist gliding along his length, he's moaning Austria's name amidst pants and groans.

Austria stiffens, dismissing the first mention of his name from Germany's lips as his imagination but it gets louder and he doesn't know what to think, his mind grows numb but nevertheless, he still needs to be in control of the situation, even though its evident he has lost all control of it already.

"Come," he whispers, looking at the German and he does, screaming Austria's name, spilling his seed all over his palm, thighs and the floor while deep inside, Austria wishes that he had painted his insides white with it, claiming himself as his.

Germany leans back against the wall, dazed. His eyes flutter open slowly, laughing mirthlessly as he realises that it was just a fantasy - he was never in bed with the Austrian to begin with - while Austria unlocks the shackles, silent, expression unreadable.

"You're free to go," Austria doesn't look at Germany, hot tears are forming in the corner of his eyes and he tries to hold them back but he's failing as he leaves the cell. He had originally meant to humiliate Germany for everything he had done to him, for whatever he had done to him during the Great War and how he kept him in it, how he hurt him, how it wasn't fair that he had to act as if nothing had happened because somehow, he had fallen in love with him but the deed was done. He walks away, feeling empty, feeling as if Germany had turned the tables on him and humiliated him instead. The tears roll down his alabaster cheeks as he holds his head up high in a desperate effort to cling on to whatever pride he has left.

Germany cleans himself up with a handkerchief Austria left him, laughing softly as he zips his trousers. There's a dull throb in his heart as he thinks of the terrible sadness in Austria's eyes as he released him. He gets up and leaves the jail cell, thinking of how much he loves the brunet, with all his heart and yet, time and time again, all he could do was to hurt him. He hates himself, he hates whatever he had done to him but most of all, he hates how Austria probably hated him for everything he had done to him.

He laughs sardonically. "Germany, you fool..."


a/n: I OUGHT TO BE STUDYING FOR CHEM AND WHAT NOT OH GAWD WHAT THE HELL AM I DOING? anyway it'd be nice if you leave a lovely review, my ib week has been absolutely awful. and this was a fill for the kink meme, cross posted here because there's waaaaay too little love for GerAus on ff. so link's here - http : / / hetalia-kink . livejournal . com / 17942 . html ? thread=58156566#t58156566 OH AND ON A SIDE NOTE! this can be read as a prequel to Anschluss 1938. yup!