Prussia nearly bit his tongue clean off when he felt that smug bastard shove himself in completely. It had nothing to do with pain since the other had done his job to prepare him – too thoroughly in his opinion too gentle too caring. It sure as hell had nothing to do with fighting back any curses considering how many he had already flung at that tall son of a bitch.

There was a ball of raw desire and affection wedged in his throat, burning his flesh and singeing his bone; it was fighting to break through, to express itself in sighs and moans and murmurs of his name oh sweet Lord in Heaven forgive him.

That was what forced Prussia to wince and gnaw on his tongue. He had to keep it from escaping

What had Prussia been thinking when he let little Wilhelmine marry into that family? Worse yet, what had shebeen thinking when she fell in love with her betrothed? Still Prussia could remember the wedding and the weeks afterwards. It didn't matter that the royal families were just single humans like all the rest – they were in their own ways symbols for their nations, and their feelings were felt more strongly by the nations. They were slightly more tightly bound by whatever magic or divinity connected nations with humans.

Prussia was thankful that he could bury his face into the bed sheets as he remembered. The memories of his heart fluttering along with hers and seeing that other nation smiling at him as he no doubt was feeling the love in his own prince's heart and—

The hands on his skin were too hot, too big, dammit he had always been big what right did he have to get bigger—

"Preußen." There was blood in Prussia's mouth. Why couldn't he at least have the decency to fight against the idiotic romantic drivel that his prince – king now, God save them all his Wilhelmine was now a queen, this bastard's queen – was feeling. Too many feelings, too much affection and desire. The heat inside him, filling him; that broad chest pressed against his back and those lips brushing against his neck and along his ear – it was all destroying the last restraints Prussia clung to.

"Awful quiet," the larger nation murmured into his ear, voice gruff with lust and a multitude of other emotions that Prussia tried to ignore. He focused on the taunt there even as his insides were being mixed up with every thrust of the other nation into him.

Prussia's hands curled into tight fists against the bed as he bit out, "I already told you I don't – ah! - take it, ok? Just cause I'm nice enough to let you – O-oh goddammit! You and your damned pathetic trust issues-"

"Doesn't explain why you're quiet."

"I don't like this so of course I'm quiet!" Prussia growled before clamping his mouth shut. The rhythm was picking up now and those lips were everywhere along his shoulders and neck and back and even his jaw—

Why did they have to be gentle and soothing andaffectionate?

"Don't lie." A sharp slap of skin against skin filled the air. "I know you can still feel it. You hide it better now, but it's not gone."

"Sh-shut up-!"

"No." The moving stopped. A choked noise – not a whine it wasn't going to be a whine he wasn't going to whine – was all Prussia made before stupidly looking over his shoulder.

"Are you going to stop having a fit or can we just get this over with-"

There's no warning as a hand grabbed Prussia's shoulder and yanked it, forcing him to twist his body until his back hit the bed. His legs were awkwardly moved and then all Prussia could see was him towering over him and those damned green eyes—

"What are you doing? I said I'd let you as long as I didn't have to look at you-"

"Just let me do this," the man murmured before pushing in deep. Prussia arched off the bed and his eyes clenched shut and no he didn't want this he didn't feel those emotions didn't feel those desires to have the man of his life, his king, make love to her no him no these weren't his feelings they weren't

"If we both feel it," the man breathed out, shuddering, his eyes too soft, "then let's give in."

"But I don't-"

"Then why'd you come help me without asking for anything in return?"

"I—dammit, because she asked, Wilhelmine asked, a-ah!"

"No, it's because you felt it, you felt the need to protect what's yours." Prussia turned his head, swallowing the blood from his wounded tongue, hoping to drown out the burning overtaking his chest. Just ignore him, ignore the words, get this coupling done and over with so that he can move on.

But the other was too persistent for that. Kisses rained down on Prussia's jawline and soft words followed after. "I'm tired of feeling this way without actually having you. Let me have you, Preußen. Let me have you like he gets to have her."

"You moron," Prussia growled, opening an eye for the sole purpose of glowering at the other nation. "These aren't our feelings! You're not your king and I'm sure as hell not Wilhelmine, so shut up, finish up, and let's-"

Lips. There were lips on his own and Prussia found he couldn't escape the kiss. Instead he laid stalk-still until the other moved away.

Prussia hated how watching the others tongue lap up the blood that had stained his lips made him shudder in ways that Wilhelmine's emotions had nothing to do with.

"I'm aware of what these feelings are, but I'm sick and tired of them," the nation groused, for the first time since they started speaking only as himself. It did not stop his hand from reaching out and brushing pale strands of hair from Prussia's face. "Ignoring them isn't doing shit. Why not go along with it for once?"

"And what? Appease our princely hearts?" A smirk was all Prussia received in return. "Easy for the guy who gets to play his king to say. I have to be your queen."

A deep, warm rumble of approval emanated from the grinning nation. Prussia grabbed him by his hair – stupidly big hair but it was falling from its normal heights, bits here and there hanging in the man's face and it was endearing – and yanked him down. He hoped that with their faces this close, there would be enough shadow to hide the pink staining his burning cheeks.

"If you tell a single soul about this, I swear to God I'll bring my armies into your kingdom again, but it won't be to help. I will hunt you down and make you wish you'd never let your stupid little prince marry my Wilhelmine."

"Oh?"

"Ever been quartered? If you think having your body torn into pieces is the hard part, just wait to enjoy your body slowly piecing itself back together over the span of a month."

"You really know how to get a guy in the mood." Hips started moving again and on instinct Prussia clamped his mouth shut. Never had he been one to give into romantic sentiments; even when asked and in his own way agreeing to give in, it was something else for Prussia to actually do just that. But solid hands were holding him and open-mouthed kisses coaxed out little tremors. Murmured words of endearment – in the other nation's language of course but oh how they still struck at him – the rolling of hips pressing into him, sparking pleasure with every motion, and the slow slid of his tongue along the inside of the shell of his ear and deeper and Prussia found his integrity crumbling.

"Say my name."

"N-no!"

"Come on. Say it, mijn koningin."

With the first sound of unhindered pleasure that escaped him, Prussia knew he had lost. Waves of emotions rushed out from his core. He grabbed onto the nation above him, inside him, and anchored onto him as Prussia as he knew himself began to drown in everything he considered beneath him.

By the time it was all over, Prussia would punch the smug bastard in the face for his comments on how being a queen suited him nicely. He'd throw on his clothing, pull his collar tight to his neck to hide any marks from the exchange, and leave while cursing the overgrown nation for all he was worth. Neither would ever speak of it again, although Prussia would notice the occasional knowing smirk and quickly make sure to wipe it off that pretty little face.

But in that moment, Prussia moaned out Netherlands' name like the queen would for her king.