A Hetalia Axis Powers Fanfiction * Presented by FanSlewFantasy 2011

As far as abominations go, it was pretty bad…

Sometimes, to really understand the beauty of a musician, you have to listen very carefully to the notes he doesn't play.

And lingering on the edge of consciousness, curled in the crook of a slender, sinewy arm, Roderich found himself thinking that Gilbert Belishmidt was one of those musicians.

His soft breath ghosted over the smooth white skin of Gilbert's shoulder, as he woke from a sleep so deep he felt he was stirring truly for the first time. His eyes blinked open, his lashes, fine and spindly like the twigs on a cherry tree in autumn, kissed the side of the other boys bare chest as he batted as his eyes and let them adjust to the darkness. His glasses were gone, he didn't know where, and even though he knew they weren't on his face he lifted a hand carefully anyway, to rub the bridge of his nose and the slight indents there, where they usually rested.

Gilbert sighed.

It took Roderich a small moment to remember. Where he was, why he was so warm and so comfortable, a heavy feather-down throw covering him snugly and deliciously. The mattress was not his own, it was far too soft, and the body beside him, the feel and scent, brought back vivid memories. They shattered the amnesiac haze of post-orgasmic sleep. He sniffed softly, and stirred.

"Gilbert..." he murmured softly, trying half heartedly to remove himself from his partners embrace. Gilbert gave only a gentle grunt, and tightened his arm around Roderich's slim shoulders.

"Gilbert, are you..." he had to pause for a moment, to just look at the others face.

The moonlight creeping stealthy through the cracks of the curtains illuminated the two figures on the bed in a razorblade of silver. It traced one side of Gilbert's pale cheek, rendering his skin radiant marble white. His features were pointed, long straight nose, fine and arching platinum blonde eyebrows no-longer pulled into the permanent frown that had etched a premature crease ever so faintly into the small gap between his brows. His lips were thin and guarded a venomous tongue, but were relaxed in sleep to a gentle part. Even the sweep of high cheekbones, a haughty and sleek bone structure beneath pure opalescent skin, was ethereal. He looked unnaturally good, and Roderich swallowed, pressing a hand to his face to wake him.

"I'm awake." The soft whisper stunned him, he froze with his fingers just millimetres from a beautiful cheek, and a single, perfectly almond and flawlessly dark eye flicked open to regard him too, in the moonlight.

"Did I wake you?"

"No, I wasn't asleep." Gilbert closed his eye again. He spoke barely moving his mouth, his voice hardly lifted above that of a breath.

"Oh." Roderich withdrew his hand and stared a little longer at the other. He bit his lip, very aware of the slinky arm coiling around his waist, and the slide of his naked thigh between Gilbert's own. Without warning, Gilbert pulled the coverlet up higher. It rustled and settled; he moulded it cosily around their bodies, drawing it up to his chin and nudging it down so Roderich's face, nearly pressed against his chest, was still bared to the cool winter air. When he rolled over, Roderich murmured something, wincing, and in apology Gilbert pulled him firmly closer, other arm completing the protective cocoon around the smaller man, hand finding itself a cosy spot nestled on Roderich's smooth hip.

"'Sokay." He half whispered, half sighed. "Go back to sleep. I won't kick you out until the morning."

Reassured, perhaps not quite conscious enough to completely get what the other said, Roderich nuzzled closer, focusing on the feeling of a smooth palm rubbing soft circles over his hip and only just realising the surreality of it.

Absolute quiet settled in the room again, and slowly, their breathing began to sync.

Roderich thought it again, as astonishingly graceful fingers massaged small, tantalizingly light shapes on his skin. He couldn't help but relax into the touch, and the surprisingly intimate and breathlessly silent hand swept comfortingly over the small of his back in a secretive, very unfamiliar way. He wondered of he was the only one who knew that touch, and the gentle andante of Gilbert's heartbeat against his chest. He'd never thought of Gilbert's heartbeat before, always too busy focusing on the screaming crash bang crash of his outward personality, his ears ringing too loudly to hear any softer, finer notes.

Yet here he was, a handsome man with magical hands. Hands that had touched and stroked and petted with all the caution of one holding his most treasured lover. A subtle and humble confidence, the warmth of his skin human and content, calm in the cloak of waking sleep and too relaxed to care his guard was down, and his nakedness stretched suddenly beyond that of his lack of clothes.

"Gilbert?" he murmured, flat hand skating the smooth plane of Gilbert's breastbone. The other man grunted in reply.

"How did this happen?"

"I dunno... I watch too much porn I guess."

Roderich didn't know if he was serous or not, (and if he was, how did it have anything to do with anything?) and settled for, rather than responding, sliding his own flat hand across that chest and placing a small sleepy kiss on the spot beside his right nipple. It was an instinctive action, he didn't think it, he felt it, and when the hand on his hip crept up to his face, thumb rubbing the line of his jaw, he allowed the kiss that ensued just as naturally.

And embracing, the two indulged in a soundless, thoughtless kiss.

It was pleasant, Roderich decided. Gilbert too, approved secretly of the gentle taste of the others mouth, and the shy tongue pressing against his teeth for allowance through and rolling slowly across his lower lip. His tongue piercing was soon back to work, stroking and cautious. A soft sigh buffeted by Roderich was shared between the breastbones of both, the kiss deepened and one of Gilbert's hands slid down, rubbing the small of an aching back in arcing loops and dipping into the shallow cleave of a pert behind.

"What are you doing?" the wet smack when the two parted was almost a breath, Gilbert pressed their foreheads together and opened his eyes again, enough to look at Roderich's face.

"You're all wet." He muttered almost to himself. "Around here..."

To prove his point, very eloquently too, he moved his hand smoothly around the front, beneath the sensitive manhood there, and slid his pointer finger inside Roderich's body to the knuckle with ease. It didn't hurt at all, but still Roderich arched his back and gasped. The feeling was no less alien.

"Shh… I won't hurt you." Gilbert nudged his partners head beneath his chin, bringing the thumb on his busy hand down and fixing the arrangement of fingers, so as to maintain a slightly more ergonomic and pleasurable touch. The lubrication, warmed by body heat and slick, was his own. The thought pleased him, and with the pad of his thumb he stroked the smooth and sensitive stretch of perineum beneath it lightly, dipping his middle finger easily in the warmth and wetness, rendering the boy beside him stunned and helpless to resist the awareness of having something foreign inside.

It wasn't an unpleasant feeling, when Gilbert wiggled his fingers a little and the cum inside him slicked and dribbled out a little the sensation was actually fairly gratifying. But it was the principle of the thing that had Roderich wide eyed and squirming, conflicted as to wether he should let it be, or get Gilbert's fingers out and far away from any weak spots or places that could be used for blackmail either.

"Don't squirm." The fingers flexed and began prying, finding plenty of space to do so. "And open your legs wider. This hurts."

Roderich laxed the crushing squeeze he was inflicting, with a gasp he let his thighs fall open and Gilbert propped himself up into a more stable position. Another few kisses and he began searching again, still rubbing gently with his thumb and stroking inside, looking for the G-Spot, or an indicator that what he was doing was good.

Of course Roderich was reluctant to give an indicator of any sort, biting his lip and tensing the muscles in his shoulders, not daring to tell that Gilbert had been nudging his prostate for three or four strokes now, with perfect pressure and timing. Slow... teasing.

He whined softly and a gentle kiss was administered to his temple.

"Is that the spot?"

A weak nod, with typical confidence, though somehow understated and content, Gilbert changed his fingering to a slower, rounder rub, tracing tiny circles across the spot and sending Roderich into convulsions of shivering, fringe wet with beading sweat and clinging a little to his face.

"Tell me if I hurt you."

Yes, within the blur of disbelief he was feeling, along with many other emotions and a delicious, aching ecstasy as Gilbert massaged his trigger, Roderich found himself utterly convinced that this boy was playing the most exquisite song humanity had ever heard, yet no-one could hear it. No-one could understand.

Maybe, if he hadn't been reduced to a moaning, blissful whore, Roderich would have taken a moment longer to think of the Gilbert he knew as well as the Gilbert he was discovering touch by touch. The kid slumped on his desk in physics class, snoring obnoxiously yet somehow still managing to pass, for example. Or the boy who had that guitar, that was out of tune and missing the B-string, and had no apparent use for it other than swinging it around like a club. And that Guy, the Gilbert who when he caught him staring stuck out his tongue and wiggled that piercing cheekily. Roderich liked that Gilbert best. And he liked the Gilbert who pressed that studded tongue to his neck, slicking the length of white throat and up to his jaw and chin and lips, sinking moans in an open lipped kiss. The warmth of two mouths gentle against each other was small only compared to the warmth blossoming between Roderich's legs. Tender, musical hands touched the white bridge of gilberts collar and nudged the necklace that he wore. His grandfathers, didn't he say? The cross with the struck out swastika engraved on the back that had, earlier that evening, perturbed Roderich more than a little bit, was now comforting and familiar. Warmed by his body heat, and whispering across lightly dampened skin. Roderich clutched the chain and pulled himself against Gilbert's breast bone, so the two were pressed chest to chest and kissing deeply. Beneath the blankets, between Roderich's legs, Gilbert kept touching, the trembling body, one leg bent and foot flat on the mattress to allow the administration of touching and stroking and massaging and oh!

"Gilbert…" Roderich's breathing caught, the muscles casting his hips and thighs clenched and a wave of pleasure trembled in his spine.

"Does it feel good?" Gilbert slowed his fingering, thumb ghosting the surface of his partner's testicles and marking gentle shapes there. The softness of breath fluttering the one, sweat drenched and flyaway lock of hair quivering on the chestnut haired mans crown, was so gentle and calm it ached. The sensation was rich and delicious. Roderich keened and kissed his way messily along Gilbert's jaw without shame.

"Yes." He insisted. "Yes Gilbert it feels so good…"

"Mmm." The two kissed again. Open mouths and loose tongues, rattling breath on the part of the only one receiving and lustful sighs from the chest of the generous perpetrator, Roderich's muscles clamped down on the finger pressing into him and Gilbert whined appreciatively.

"Fuck specs… do that on my cock next time."

Not really paying attention to what he said, Roderich nodded, resisting the urge to rock his hips in time with Gilbert's languid strokes. His touch was sweet and patient… he bore fluttering, melting warmth across his shoulders upon being touched in such a gentle fashion.

The light lilt in his breath became more pronounced, and the tension building in his lower body was growing steadily. Tendons seizing in his thighs were chorded and firm enough to snap, neatly manicured nails scraped red lines into the canvas of smooth white skin boasted by Gilbert's chest. Impatiently, his hips shuddered and Gilbert chuckled, nuzzling the silky lavender scented locks of his bedmate and subject with what could almost be affection.

Unwelcomely, he halted his massage.

"Wait a second." He murmured. Roderich lamented, wiggling and trying to convince that hand to get back to work to no avail. A slight snigger prickled the back of his neck and Gilbert withdrew his hand.

"What's wrong?"

"Why did you stop, idiot?" Roderich flexed his body, the firm cramping muscles in his legs loosening slightly, breathing ever so faintly and flooding with relaxants. His neck prickled and the touch of gilberts hand slipping up his spine was mind reeling. His skin was far, far too sensitive. He wondered briefly if, up until this moment, he had ever been conscious of touch before, or if this was the first time he was ever really feeling. Ever really… real.

"So… you did want me to finish then?"

"Well yes!" indignant now, Roderich pushed himself away from the other man and tried to still his quivering arms. "I did!"

"I can't do anything if you're going to be all stand-offish like that you know…"

Gilbert propped himself up on his elbows and smiled. His necklace clinked and glimmered in the low blue light of the lovers' hour, that obscure time that falls late between midnight and dawn, when the whole world stops for one pair tangled between crisp sheets. The velvet dressings of night-time suited him well.

Roderich sniffed huffily and conceded, lying back down and looking away with as much dignity as he could muster. His eyes cast back through lowered lashes and although Gilbert didn't miss it, he called no attention to the look. As sweet and endearing as it was.

Patiently, too aware of his breathing in his chest and his physical body, Roderich allowed gilberts hand to brush his stomach, the other young mans breath to sigh along the curve of his neck. Those hands moved with achingly slow grace, finger dipping into Roderich's bellybutton and teasing, thumb running flat over the perfect melting swell of a hipbone beneath skin. Legs spread, Roderich breathed in deeply once more, shoulders tensing in expectation when Gilbert teased. Just teased. The very point of his index finger was slim and nimble, and butterflied over the twitching, desperate place Roderich wanted it to be. He tried as hard as he could to resist the instinct to thrust his body downward. He knew doing so would only make Gilbert tease more. He did his best to look like he didn't want it.

"Beg me Roderich…" Gilbert's warm, slightly moist lips brushed the soft flushed shell of the others ear. "ask me nicely and I may just do you a favour…" the slick wet sound of his tongue slipping out, the barbell nudging the sensitive tragus inside the ear and the tip of his tongue tracing Roderich's lobe, was magnified and erotic so close to the desperate mans eardrum. With a whimper, he conceded, his head tipped back and a breathless plea for mercy, one he would never have imagined himself giving to Gilbert, left him.

The finger returned to its business, and Gilbert hummed contentedly, watching his dark haired vixen squirm impaled on just a small part of his entire awesome self. Lost in the throes of bliss that came from having a perfectly steady finger teasing ones most sensitive and special spot, Roderich paid no attention, wrapping himself entirely around the other and rolling his hips in time. If he was able to think at that moment, or if he was familiar with the concept of 'feeling sexy', he would have most assuredly have used that particular term to describe it. Because there was just… something about Gilbert that made him feel wanted, something that made him wild and hot and left him dazed with the conviction that he was the most beautiful creature who ever lived. His subconscious assurance that this was the case was evident in his expression as Gilbert regarded him, the flushed, wild animal face of a man thoroughly fucking himself on another persons hand breathtakingly attractive and magnetic. Gilbert leaned in for a kiss and their lips joined in a frantic, indulgent mimicry of what was happening between Roderich's legs. Thrusting tongues, sliding across one another and exploring hot wet places without any restraint. Roderich's breathing, punctuated with keening moans, was rising in volume, until it was almost a gasping howl. Gilbert's teeth scraped his throat, the heat was blinding.

Orgasm finally struck. With a jerk, a yell and a shudder, Roderich unfurled his body and ejaculated thickly across Gilbert's hip. Gilbert held him tight and drew the climax out as long as he could with his touch, breathing in the scent of chestnut hair, savouring the feel of a fine gloss of sweat separating their bodies and slipping the motion between them. Hair wet with sweat, still trembling as the last few splutters of cum issued forth from his body, Roderich drew himself into Gilbert's breast completely, curling up and allowing the hand to be removed from its spot notched inside. He panted, his skin tingled, and the bed they lay on seemed to be bobbing, as if being rocked by the ebbs and tides of some great sea.

Gilbert kissed his damp crown and the two embraced, and Roderich decided that Gilbert was a much better musician than him, considering the nature of the instrument he played with apparent ease.

Please excuse the inexcusaeable amount of smut in the preeceeding story.

I don't own hetalia.