Warning: sex, detailed oral sex, and sap/fluff/sentimentality (or however you wish to call it)

A/N: First, I must say I wrote this sequel looooong ago. And I'm sorry for not posting it earlier, my exams just finished too, and I decided to post it unbeta'd at last.

Secondly, I know some didn't want a sequel (I respect and understand that), and you are free to skip it – you won't miss anything important if you do so. To the rest of you (if you still remember what the story is about, haha) I wish an enjoyable read… (this is just a little break from all the drama)

- The Past Is Gone -


The sight was indeed charming.


"Don't rush me—"

Prussia's senses perked up. He struggled to prolong that sweetest state of half-consciousness before rousing, while bits of surreal imagery still thread through one's mind. His attempts were thwarted by the soft hum of talk which doggedly tried his patience.

The realization dawned that he wasn't alone, dispersing his dreams entirely.

Giving no sign or sound until he was certain of human presence, he paid attention to the fragments of conversation. The maids were astir early as usual. He cracked open an eye and caught them huddled together in a tightly packed group alongside the bed—all but one, for she was crouching before them with her knees bent and her thighs resting on her calves. His gaze brought their quiet chatter to an abrupt end; unaware of his scrutiny, only the crouching maid was furiously drawing away the sight of two nations in an amatory embrace while rays of gold shone upon their sleeping form.

It was the first time and also the last that Gilbert ever saw them bliss out in his presence.

Scarlet eyes flitted across their befuddled faces; the crouching girl loomed over her work so that her frilly headband slanted off her head, almost falling off. The swishing over the sheet of paper didn't end. He uncoiled his arm from Ludwig's waist and bade her give him the picture. Taken aback, the maid handed it with a twinkle of guilt in her eye, but her apology sounded too far-fetched even to her own ears. Gilbert shook his head, yet a smile twitched at his lips as he continued to inspect the charcoal sketching of himself and Ludwig sleeping together in a tight clasp. He was almost swept along by their enthusiasm.

"Later you may nag me. Now do your duty and then be gone."

His whisper hustled them out of the room, and, with the sketch in their possession again, they managed to jostle their way through the door.

Gilbert pulled at the spread bed-curtains until the sunlight was peering in only through the chink between the silk damasks, then propped his head up on his elbow. He felt a pang of disappointment—Ludwig was not sprawled naked on his bed as he would have wanted it, but covered with the down duvet up to his neck. Seeing only a pale hand peek from under the covers, Gilbert hitched up the cuffs faced with velvet over his exposed wrist before tugging the quilt over it to tuck him in.

An army of thoughts was marching through his mind. Countless questions. So many things have been left unsaid.

Gilbert studied his brother, drinking in his youth, every angle of his face. Carving it to his memory. His own complexion was almost powder-white, but Ludwig's skin was like porcelain. Bright golden locks were framing his serene face. No crease. No gloom. The little upward lift in the middle of his top lip was diverting Gilbert's attention, enchanting him. His fingers disappeared in Ludwig's tousled hair, running over his scalp.

He had long stopped building his dolorous dreams.

He had hoped, craved, prayed, that Germany would someday be his. Heavy shame has up to yesterday weighted upon him. No longer was he forced to hanker after someone he couldn't have.

So much good luck had his head in a whirl.

He tucked a strand of golden hair behind his brother's ear and carried on, lightly working his way over the outer fold with his fingertips. Only after he had run his little finger along the soft crease behind his ear did Ludwig shift in sleep, shuffling up on the pillow to get more comfortable.

Gilbert decided against telling him of their little visit earlier to spare him a mindful of difficulties that lay ahead. He could think of quite a number of people who openly opposed a bond of this nature between two nations—between Prussia and Young Germany in particular.

Ludwig began to stir, rousing slowly from his rest.

He gave a lethargic half-yawn before venturing an endeavor to roll on the opposite side, right into Gilbert arms. Scarlet met baby blue.

Gilbert has expected a lot. But not this.

Ludwig awoke with a gasp. He lurched up, doe-eyed like a frightened deer, staring wildly at the albino and his surroundings, his heart thudding.

"Forgive my sin against you—I'd rather be dead than have you despise me." Ludwig stuttered out while his baffled mind was trying to comprehend what was happening.

Gilbert's soul, his very self, was splintering at the sorrow etched on Ludwig's face: his sense of guilt has not vanished in the light of the morning. He was still mired in shame.

A sense of calm and clarity slowly came over the blond and he fell quiet and subdued for a few moments, as if trying to comprehend the gravity of the last night.

"I have betrayed my feelings at last..."

Gilbert silenced him with a kiss he would never grow weary of.

The kiss lingered for a while, then changed tempo, and Gilbert pressed him down, shifting on top, advancing slowly towards the desire of his heart. Ludwig pushed against his touches, demanding more. His heart gave a huge throb—it was no longer writhing in agony. The more Gilbert took, the more he offered to him, kissing back with emotions that had no name. It felt right. It felt superb.

"Brother…" He breathed, cheek nuzzled into Gilbert's neck, "I pray you will let me call you so even if I have angered you by lying. I have no one else but you." Gilbert's weight on him felt so good. He closed his eyes, hoping to freeze that moment in time. "I was so exposed to temptation, brother. I clung onto you like a poor wretch, in ways you cannot imagine."

Gilbert tried shush him and put an end to his impromptu confessions, but Ludwig resumed apologizing for past indiscretions.

"I reached my limits—I couldn't anymore. I've had enough of that torturous charade."

"The shame is not yours. It belongs to me as well."

Gilbert's voice could heal the deepest wounds. Ludwig fell silent, tightening his arms around the Prussian with desperate pressure.

Strong. Warm. His.

He never thought this day would come.

"The past is gone. Let us start afresh."

He wanted to weep and laugh with happiness.

Gilbert luxuriously stretched himself out beside the younger blond and, as if tied to him, Ludwig followed, latching onto his brother in the same way he has done many nights before. His head on his brother's shoulder, he caught the corners of Gilbert's mouth rising up. His beam was contagious. In a flush of excitement, Ludwig's own lips curved up in a smile, much to Gilbert's delight. The smile was reluctant to leave his face and stayed there for a while as he watched the Knight's Cross that lay amidst the whiteness of Gilbert's collarbone. Enraptured in a daydream, blue eyes darted up after the albino picked up the hand resting on his chest and titled his chin up to kiss the inside vein of Ludwig's wrist.

"I've longed for only one thing on this bleak world—for you to be mine."

Every fiber of Ludwig's being wanted to cry out his love. Gilbert loved him back; all else was history.

A blithe air of buoyancy hovered over them and they reposed together as if they have done it a thousand times before. Ludwig missed how his brother's mouth formed a salacious grin.

"What have you been doing to me while I slept?"

Nuzzled deep into Gilbert's neck, two light brows formed a quick frown. Ludwig was rather unenthusiastic about this topic, not wanting to revisit painful memories.

"I have told you last night." He murmured, hesitant.

"Can you refresh my memory?" Gilbert teased in a tone that sent Ludwig's blood rushing to his groin. The Prussian suddenly felt that he has been cheated out of a great experience. The thought of Ludwig enjoying his body was stroking his ego still. While he waited for a reply, Gilbert drew closer the tray that maids have left on his commode to pour himself a cup of tea. He brought the cup with a teaspoon of honey to his lips, fully aware of Ludwig's eyes following him.

"You drink tea even in the morning?"

"It's your fault I drink more tea than beer." He gave a bark of a laughter. "I swear to almighty Fritz — I'm worse than that Brit."

"My apologies…I could try to atone for my misdeeds if you would let me." He proffered a suggestion. While Gilbert stirred the honey into his tea and sipped on it, Ludwig was getting up the nerve to ask, probably choosing the worst timing for his proposal.

"I would like to fellate you."

Gilbert sputtered profusely.

Ludwig had expressed the wish to suck him off, and he couldn't possibly refuse the generous offer.

Gilbert draped himself over an arm-chair, his legs spread open in a typical male pose, smirking archly. His member was stirring at the mere sight of Ludwig kneeling before him with a healthy amount of pink coloring his cheeks. He widened his stance, letting the younger blond pitch his body forward to imprint a kiss upon the bulge in his unbuttoned breeches. Ludwig's hands worked independently of his conscience, peeling and revealing all that stood in his way. Gilbert reveled in the agony of anticipation while Ludwig peppered his abdomen, his hips and the junction to his thighs with soft, wet kisses in a tormenting pace, sweeping his mouth everywhere but on the part that ached most for his attention.

A shiver passed through his body when Ludwig brought his mouth down until the shaft was underneath his chin, just far enough to let him think that maybe, hopefully, he would keep going and take him in, but he stopped short of his hardness and his tongue ventured a curving path, between his thigh and crotch, lavishing the tender path there with attention instead. Was it possible that he has missed ten months of this heaven? Could it really be that Ludwig has practiced this on him for so long? What a blind fool he has been.

Far from the first time in his life, Ludwig curled his fingers around the base of Gilbert's manhood, tightened them, raising his favorite toy upwards and sliding his foreskin back to expose the thick, purplish head, without engulfing him just yet. Gilbert could feel Ludwig's breath across his fully erect cock before the blond moved in for a closer lick, brushing the swollen head against his moist lips. He teased Gilbert with a couple of kisses, intent on his work, attentive to the first pearls of pre-come that trickled down the glans, forcing his heart to thump in glee.

Azure eyes then seduced Gilbert's attention. He felt an impulse, a sudden wish, to have Ludwig watch him as he sucked him off and called him with a moan—shy eyes darted up questioningly.

Ludwig made a shrewd guess and puzzled out his brother's wish, urging himself to hold the gaze while he drew his tongue along his rigid shaft, laving it over the bulging veins, then flicking from the very base up to the top and guiding the shaft into his mouth at last. Gilbert felt another shudder wash over his body, the grip around his base grew tighter, the warm muscle prodded at his slit to taste the salty drops, swirling around the whole head, flicking and rolling—the Prussian felt the blood slowly leaving his upper body.

Ludwig gave his cock a squeeze that made him thrust up a bit, a primal, growling noise slipped past his lips when the blond turned his head sideways, as if to take a bite of him, gently setting his teeth into the rigid flesh, scraping them over the velvety skin, pulling up.

Gilbert let his body appease the euphoria that has peaked for a split second while Ludwig's tongue darted out again to lap at the bead of pre-come glistening on the tip, right before he closed his lips around it to create a gentle suction, gliding up and down without losing the vacuum.

"Yes—keep playing with my flute…" The husky entreat stopped Ludwig in mid-suck and he let the engorged head pop out with an obscenely wet noise, looking up.


Gilbert answered with a merry laugh and he gave a scowl, but continued mouthing him with the utmost care, with finesse acquired solely through practice. Experience bred confidence. He took few inches, just past the coated head, then plunged down to swathe him as deep into his throat as he could and—

"Gods!" Gilbert snapped his hips, teeth clenched, imprisoning another moan caught deep in his throat. A little curving of Ludwig's mouth grew into a smile. He let his muscles go slack, but stiffened his tongue to massage down the underside of Gilbert's shaft, sliding as far down as he felt comfortable. Even past his gag reflex he moved, and Gilbert watched how his cock disappeared into the wet mouth until Ludwig's nose was buried in silvery tangle of hair, his breathing doubled. Gilbert's heady, individual, familiar scent filled Ludwig's lungs after he took a breath, charging him with lust. His brother was so thick in his mouth, his own shaft gave a twitch, his skin on fire.

For a split second he feared that Gilbert might clamp a hand on his head to push him further, but the Prussian had his hands on the armrest, clawing at the plush, lost at the blissful sensory overload.

Ludwig eased him out of his mouth entirely to nuzzle his hardness, wetting his cheek and jaw, honoring it with a lick at a time. Everything possessive in Gilbert roared with pride and satisfaction while Ludwig fleshed out his deepest fantasies. Blue eyes he had long deemed innocent now revered him with high esteem and respect, his tongue treated his length with the deepest admiration, and the ways in which he lavished his member with love made his ego boost to new heights.

He skimmed his fingertips over Ludwig's cheekbone and advanced toward his hair, petting; Ludwig averted his gaze.

Head bent, hot breath feathering across the shaft in his hand, Ludwig quickly ran his tongue over his swollen lips with frail hopes of hiding the heat that bit by bit engulfed his cheeks. His tongue smacked against his teeth, mouth watering to taste his brother again. He let his fingers twiddle around the leaking head to daub the residual moisture, missing the feel of Gilbert's hardness sliding over his tongue. Following on from where he left off, he pushed the length past his mouth, lips tight around him, and fed his cock into his mouth with gusto. A shallow start was launched, before he increased the depth by degrees.

Gilbert's breathing turned into soft panting.

Ludwig couldn't get enough of him in his mouth to satisfy himself, and he couldn't blame it solely on the hormones and his youth.

The former knight murmured a mantra of endearments to encourage him, but he didn't need any encouragement. His eyelids closed before he moaned around the marble-hard glory in his mouth, sending a tingle straight through the Prussian's groin and to his sac. Gilbert was thankful for the small mercy of having something to sit on, for he felt quite weak in the knees. Pleasure gave way to ecstasy as Ludwig bobbed his head, tight lips moving down his shaft in deliberate and methodical swallows, claiming every inch as his. The blond worked his throat loose and started off deep-throating him a few times, swallowing the whole length, all the way to his brother's fair bush that was prickling his lips.

Ludwig stopped humping the pillow under his knees and brought his hips to a standstill, palming his own bulge before a fleeting withdrawal. He swept up a string of saliva dribbling down his chin with a whisk of his hand and wiped it on the pants. His palms traveled down Gilbert's spread thighs, up to his powerful pelvis, then down to his neglected balls. Gilbert's muscles were all constricted and taut in anticipation. Ludwig let his palm drift lower to cup him—a gentle caress, a light tug, a squeeze— and the Prussian was rendered helpless anew. Ludwig weighted the new experiences against the old ones and knew—there was nothing to compare. It was so much different, so much better than before: the secret sinning was an agony, this was bliss decanted into reality. The sound of Gilbert's labored breathing was Orphic melody, his expression twisted in pleasure a painting beautiful beyond compare.

Keeping his head between his palms, Gilbert would every so often give him a little push, twiddling unconsciously with the strands of blond that spilled through his fingers while Ludwig kept himself busy, his hands and mouth full of cock once again. When the albino felt the pressure building he succumbed to the temptation and grasped the back of Ludwig's head, his hips shot forward to drive his hardness into the waiting, wet mouth deeper, eager to disappear in that heat entirely. As soon as Ludwig felt him tense, his sac scrunch up in his fingers, he came up for breath, leaving the Prussian bucking up into the cold air with a piteous whine. He resumed a vice grip on his shaft and picked up speed, stroking his thick length, faster, in a rhythm Gilbert was aching for.

It was time to reap the reward for his good work.

Intoxicated with pleasure, Gilbert rocked his hips into the unrelenting pressure, his thrusts faster, shorter.

The younger German put his mouth to a good use again and swirled on the glans with his tongue, letting the swollen head run along the bumpy ridge of his palate, soon getting into a nice rhythm. He lathered him up with every calculated movement of his mouth, allowing Gilbert to put his hands on his head again, but keeping his eyes fixed on the Prussian, keen on watching him climax. His wildest fantasy was seeing the light of day at last.

He felt his strong muscles flex and redoubled his efforts, maintaining the friction; Gilbert's voice above him was panting out curses while he inched closer to ecstasy with each tantalizing swallow. An erratic spasm mangled the rhythm of his pace, but Ludwig retrieved the speed, the pressure—milking his brother out for a release.

As an acutely strong wave of pleasure raced along his thighs Gilbert rubbed his thumb over the blond's temple in a warning.

Backing off was out of question.

Gilbert arched off shortly before the first spurts of creamy seed flooded Ludwig's mouth, a deep growl escaped his throat. The younger nation swallowed greedily and Gilbert kept on coming, sending the last bursts of essence jetting down the back of his throat before slumping down, short of breath. And while he enjoyed the aftermaths of his release, Ludwig made sure to lick up every last drop he had missed. His cheeks would glow a rich scarlet if he were to tell Gilbert just how much he enjoyed sucking him off.

He granted him an extra lick as a sweetener and withdrew with a little smack, leaning back on his heels to give a few careful pumps while he was still sensitive.

Ludwig then did something hitherto undreamed-of—he idled away the morning.

He sunk against Gilbert on a sofa where they lay with joined hands, and took a very spontaneous nap. The palace was crowded and bustling with activity, but they lounged the afternoon away, with no soul to disturb their peace. The bedroom was his for the duration, free for him to stay as long as he was keen on, and thus three whole days were spent in seclusion, without divulging a blessed thing about their affair.

Those few days were Ludwig's salvation.

This experience was at odds with what he was wont to; he was thrown into a world of surreal where every moment was terrifying bliss. The new setting allowed him to deal with his past errors, alleviate his grief, and return to a normal life. The quiet and the calm laved him in Gilbert's presence. Then again, it unbridled the unrestrained, unchecked lust that had troubled him before, and enjoyed the luxury of having Gilbert take him so often during their isolation.

The rasp of furniture against the bare floor was not lone in spoiling the peace and quiet of the room—so did the breathless gasps, shallow breathing, moans of want and pleasure.

He barked his elbows and palms on the table; he scraped his knees on the floor. Gilbert's speed was uncanny. In bed also. They united over and over, unleashing an onset, a never-ending cycle, of pure rapture, losing count of orgasms.

Sometimes rough, sometimes gentle. Sometimes a vicious tempo that left him pleasantly spent, sometimes a deliberately slow pace, teasing and tormenting him to the fullest. These vagary turns he welcomed. The zealous Prussian tossed him into new positions, often endeavoring to shift the younger blond on top—he was still owed a demonstration of Ludwig's secret visits. And as if he was trying to catch up with all the months he has lost, Gilbert began a rich, lavish attention to his body, his rough fingers lazy, teasing, crawling over his skin in the same ways Ludwig's have done before, at night. Whenever a touch ended, another followed.

Together they enjoyed a period of contentment and elation, tacitly aware that some took note of their absence.

Deeply absorbed in thought, Gilbert let his feet drift him along the familiar path toward his bedroom. He turned a corner and stopped in his tracks the very moment he sighted another nation in front of the double-doors. It seemed to him that Roderich was inspecting the two stout, armed guards with their muskets on the ready and their sabers glaring in the light of candles, unaware of his stare.

Gilbert sauntered on, a brief gleam of interest on his face.

Having understood that something between the two nations has happened, Roderich resolved to make his presence felt, and, perhaps, exert his influence on the latest developments.

Gilbert's interest began to dwindle with each step, and by the time he revealed his presence and approached the entrance, his desire for a scuffle with the Austrian has ceased to exist. Brushing past him he reached for the handles, but, baffled, Roderich tried to stop him.

"Ah, would you forgive me, today I travel incognito." The Prussian cut off, a roughish smirk sprouting on his lips. "How are you today?"

"Good enough, thank you, Gilbert. And you?" Roderich almost huffed in return, his conduct nothing but fine gestures—probably just for show.

"Radiant indeed, radiant." The platinum-blond informed with a joyful glitter in his eye, malice in his features. "I did not imagine the remotest possibility of your visiting my bedroom. What brings you here?"

"Where is he, Gilbert?" Roderich demanded with a towering rage.

"That's a rather delicate question… Ah! We did spend the whole day together. If that is what you're asking." Gilbert smiled into his face with derision. Roderich felt like he has suddenly been punched in the stomach.

"You are not keeping him locked, I assume." He harrumphed at Gilbert's mockery, his overweening gestures.

"Perish the thought!" Another smile flickered across Gilbert's face. "I would not think of such a thing."

"I suspected. But now I'm convinced."

"What is the motive behind your visit then?"

Both vied for superiority. One could triumph.

"To inquire about Ludwig's whereabouts." The Austrian retorted pithily.

"Quid pro quo."

At the supercilious rise of an eyebrow, Gilbert decided to elaborate on his ultimatum.

"What word is circling in the palace these days?" He began their bitter exchange.

Roderich paused to mull over his thoughts.

"Rumors are heard far and wide…"

"All malicious lies." The Prussian purred, his tone at conflict with the content of his message.

"Whether they are or not is not for me to determine." Roderich was completely gutted in ire. "I have come to liberate Ludwig of the dull routine."

Gilbert gave a chuckle, amused or sardonic—it was hard to tell, possibly both.

"Wherein did I misspeak myself? Ludwig. Is. Here. Willingly." He stressed word after word, entertained by Roderich's obvious effort to uphold his usual poise.

"I bear him no ill will." He gritted out, perched up his glasses, and closed his eyes for a split second to shun Gilbert's jibe, "My hope is that he will change his mind. That he will leave this barricade of yours."

The Prussian guffawed.

"Barricade may be a rather grandiose term for this." Tired of his presence, Gilbert swerved, facing the doors, "You may visit. Later. But let it be seldom, and compelled by need." He turned the handles, "I doubt Ludwig will be up to persuasion."

Having arrived at a desperation point, Roderich nearly lunged at him, but the menacing glare of both guards cut him short, and Gilbert was already out of reach anyway.

"Hold it! Where are you going?"

Once more Gilbert turned to him.

"I have received enough information." He explained laconically before he could enter seriously into a discourse with the Austrian, his tone decided the outcome. He retreated and flung the door against the horrified Roderich who, appalled by his crude and open manner, abstained from venturing a second intrusion. A little recovered after this shock, he swept angrily out of the hall.

Gilbert knew he wouldn't dare show his face at his bedroom again.

The blaring slam startled Ludwig and he froze in his steps, staring at the Prussian.

Looking thoughtful, Gilbert shrugged his coat off and let the heavy fabric shirr onto the crooks of his elbows, the terse exchange between him and Roderich already forgotten. He looked up, saw Ludwig and snapped straight—petrified.

The younger German has been walking around the bedroom wearing Gilbert's robe as if it were nothing, openly offering himself on a silver platter. The plunging neckline nearly reached the loose knot of the silk sash, much too big for him, a paisley swirl of gold across the Prussian blue brocade hugging his body—nothing underneath. He was irresistible.

A beat of silence, then—

"G… Gilbert." Ludwig began, starting a slow retreat.

He saw a vulpine grin tug up a corner of Gilbert's mouth and felt a tingle in his skin, a breeze through his nerves.

The Prussian was leering at him, eying him like he was a gourmet meal, like a wolf watches his prey.

Ludwig took another step back, muttering a flimsy excuse, combing the room for an escape. Too late.

Gilbert advanced at a brisk pace, closing what little space was left between them. He pushed the blond against the wall and imprisoned his waist, caging him in, trapping him there to keep him from slipping away. Without much grace, he let his full weight slam into the younger German—a spear of desire shot straight through Ludwig's volatile young body.

"Why do you keep tantalizing me so?" Gilbert asked in a lush whisper, a gust of hot breath washed over Ludwig's neck, "Giving me a view you know I will enjoy…"

"I didn't—Y… you've caught me—"

Gilbert cut off his protest with a kiss.

"Oh yes, I've caught you."

Ludwig's member twitched to life at the words. Gilbert's appetite for sex was enormous.

Propelled by raw lust, Gilbert plunged a hand down, swatted away the sash, pushed the garment up around Ludwig's legs; the front of the robe fell open, revealing his chest and shoulders. A fresh batch of tremors ran through Ludwig's body and set his heart thumping, his mind settled there and then: he loved being pushed up against a wall by Gilbert. The Prussian went along a path south before he cupped him in his palm. Ludwig's eyes fluttered close—Gilbert has mastered him entirely. All resistance broke down under his own desire.

"Don't dress like this. Or you will be forced to hide for your own safety."

That was a risk Ludwig was willing to take.

"I would rather be in danger then." He retorted, his voice just above a whisper. Gilbert tipped his head up so they were eye-to-eye, sharing one breath. As soon as a finger of Gilbert's free hand made contact with his mouth, running the tip across his bottom lip, Ludwig's lust volcanically started up, leaving him dazed. The titillating touch continued down the line of his jaw, eliciting a favorable response from the blond.

Seizing the albino by the collar, Ludwig smashed their mouths together, need pouring off of him. He rocked his hips against Gilbert's, thrusting diligently until they were rutting like two animals, their breathing strained and heavy. He nabbed at Gilbert's vest and the Prussian stole another kiss, unable to keep his hands to himself. He slipped down to cup the back of Ludwig's thighs and kneaded the supple flesh, groaning.

"I want you against the wall." He demanded in a lascivious moan, cutting to the chase at last.

"The reins are in your hand." Ludwig panted, a hitch in his breath, "I'm in your power, brother. Rule me as you wish." His voice barely a whisper now.

Inflamed with passion, the albino made a quick work of lifting him up.

His legs were nudged apart and he was only too happy to oblige, unresistingly spreading them, and allowing the bathrobe to fall off entirely. Rough hands of a knight and unspoiled warrior grasped his thighs and scooped him up, a growl completely primal, completely sexual, rose from Gilbert's throat when he pressed himself close against the blond, holding him up against the wall in this novel position. Clasping tight at the nape of Gilbert's neck, Ludwig locked his legs around his waist and arched into him, maintaining the center of his gravity close to his brother.


"Bed." Ludwig breathed against his skin, mouth on Gilbert's bare shoulders, hands now fisted in the fine fabric of his shirt. Showing off his strength and dominating expertise, the Prussian carried him off toward the bed with ease. One more kiss and Ludwig glimpsed over his shoulder, blue eyes roamed around the bed. Once he spotted the jar he untangled his arms from Gilbert and leaned back toward the bed in a long arch, pushing his upper weight off the mattress with the right hand, the other one rustled through the quilts. Gilbert held firm.

"You're going to hurt your back—"


A cover slipped off with a soft swish as Ludwig rolled up, coming back up for another kiss, the jar in his possession. Once he was crushed into the wall again he settled himself against Gilbert's frame and pushed his legs up around him; Gilbert grasped him more tightly and slid his mouth over the white throat, groaning against his skin.

They worked in tandem. Ludwig's hand dipped between their bodies to bare Gilbert's cock and lather his straining shaft. Wedged between two supple mounds, Gilbert found the curve of his brother's taut bottom and spread him, waiting for Ludwig to guide him in. Breathless, Ludwig aligned himself with Gilbert's erection and seated himself, a moan of momentary joy escaped him. Gilbert greedily watched his face to follow his response to penetration. Relaxed, and not expecting pain, Ludwig allowed him to go to the hilt. He fitted inside seamlessly. The blond gyrated his hips, thrust them up, melting into a heap of hot mess. Gilbert went deeper, deeper, filling him, blinding him, adept with bringing him to oblivion.

Ludwig hooked his arms under his brother's strong shoulders and spread both palms on the planes of his back, feeling his muscles flex and work, waiting for Gilbert to go faster, to plow him thoroughly, to love him against the wall with no scruples.

Gilbert grabbed his bottom, pulled him up and down on his shaft—pace and depth all in his control—hammering him like a piston, and his body responded with animated enthusiasm, receiving him readily.

He closed his eyes against the assault of pleasure while Gilbert pounded his tender prostrate, his name the only word within his verbal capacity. Gilbert's breath was hot in his ear, his thrusts undying. His fingers clawed over the sheen of sweat on Gilbert's skin, his breathing quick and small, mouth agape. He lost himself to the overwhelming flood of bliss and let the heat build up to a climax—a flash of light exploded behind his eyelids, an orgasm shot through him, fierce like a bolt. While he rode out the aftershocks the same warm tingling surged over the Prussian and his body entered into spasmodic thrusts, straining to obtain every last bit of pleasure before it faded into numbness.

Their bodies still joined and tightly clasped together, Ludwig put his hands around Gilbert's neck to draw him close, their kiss a slow, lazy game of tongues.

His hold slack and shoulders drooping, Gilbert relaxed his overused muscles, and blew a heartfelt sigh over the blond's neck. Ludwig sagged against him, his mind floating on a gentle current, no thoughts disturbing the pleasures of his afterglow, no need to think.

"Perhaps it would be more convenient to stay naked while within the walls of this room… It would spare me the trouble of having to take off your clothes each and every time."

Well-kissed lips curved into a smile.

- The End -

A/N: This is my last story for now. My beloved Germancest is dying out, and it's breaking my heart.

I have a draft of almost 100 pages for a serious, romantic Germancest story set in a modern military camp, but I don't know if I will ever get down to writing it. In any case, thank you all for the support and reading, you're awesome, guys.