Okay, I wrote this because I was listening to Strut heaps, and then I was practising walking in my new heels (my friend convinced me to get them since they were ten bucks. They're total prostitute shoes, I swear. They're all black fake leather and buckles and platforms, and make me about 6 inches taller. It's crazy, I can hardly walk in them.) and I was like, hey, I should try dancing in them a bit, that'll get me used to them quicker! So I danced to Strut, and it made me think of Canada pole dancing. Yes, my mind is strange.
Sorry about that rambling. I'm happy, because AdmiralAwesome is my beta now, and I have sparkly nails in honour of Magnus because he's a fucking sex god (warlock! :D)
This is kind of a oneshot from a Franada fic I'm working on at the moment. I'm not sure how long it'll be before I upload it though.
Yeah. Love you guys!
I don't own Hetalia, obviously. duh.
Strut: A fanfic dedicated to Strut by Adam Lambert.
Francis leant back in his chair, running his hands through his hair. His boss had been making him work hard all day, as well as the last week, and he really needed to relax.
Really, really, needed to relax. He felt almost as if he would go mad at the tediousness of all this paperwork. God, how he wanted to see Mattie. But, if he got all this done, he would have the whole next week off. And he could see Mattie as much as he wanted, and do whatever he wanted with him…
Okay, now was not the time to start thinking about Matthieu and his angelically beautiful body, the pale skin of his chest, reddened nipples, the thin hips now covered in bite marks…
Not the time, Francis.
He turned to his computer and brought up iTunes. Listening to a little music for a while couldn't hurt. He pressed play, knowing it was on shuffle. Too hard to decide what music was best for the moment, he reasoned. A relatively familiar beat filled the room, and he leant back further in his chair, trying to remember what it was.
I wanna start a revolution
Oh, Strut by Adam Lambert. He had to admit, although he wasn't his type, he was pretty hot. He closed his eyes and listened to the song.
Got something to say, your hands are tied, open your mouth, open it wide
He had a sudden image in his head of Mattie in front of him, his mouth open, face red and eyes glazed. He sat up quickly. Thinking about him like that was not going to help him get back to work. Concentrate on other lyrics, Francis.
Show me what you're working with
and let me see you
Okay, now he was just getting images of Mattie in some high heels pole dancing for him. This was NOT helping him relax. Or maybe…
The song repeated.
The door was locked, after all.
He let his eyes close as he leant back and the music crept into his mind.
Matthieu had a leg hooked around a pole, his back to Francis. A pale slender leg, loosely wrapped around the pole. He swung around and grinned at Francis cheekily.
Francis's hand went to his pants and began unzipping them.
Mattie wiggled his ass at him momentarily, drawing his attention to it. Clad in a tiny pair of red shorts, the only piece of clothing he was wearing, (apart from lacy fingerless gloves and red platform heels), it curved and slid through the air.
Francis wrapped a hand around his already erect shaft, watching what was surely a miracle of nature in red leather weave a mesmerising pattern around the pole, rubbing slowly across it occasionally.
He was dancing, really, not anything that would usually be considered that dirty by club standards, but adding the small interactions with pole, holding onto it slightly as his ass moved invitingly, and combining that with his usual innocent nature, was the most arousing thing. Ever.
He made little jumping steps in the red platforms had white maple leaves on them, he noticed. They moved swiftly across the floor, as his legs twisted around each other, aiding his body in it's seductive movements. His feet stopped reasonably far apart, and Mattie bent down, his ass prominent as it moved in a slow circle, and then he was back to the faster, sinuous movements. How was it even possible for someone to look that fucking sexy?
Francis's hand was moving faster now, and his Fantasy Matthieu's movements were becoming more sexual, grinding and stroking against the pole.
Mattie was running his crotch up and down the pole to the music. He kicked up a leg, allowing Francis a great view of the erection Matthieu had.
He locked eyes, and staring straight at him, he began to slide down the pole, hands trailing above him. Matthieu's knees spread apart as he slowly lowered himself, smirking at Francis before standing up, obviously pushing his butt up against the pole. As he did so, his head tipped back slightly and he let out a loud moan.
"Fucking hell, Mattie…" He breathed out slowly. Matthieu finally slid away from the pole and began to strut towards him. He leant over him and pressed his own hand around Francis's length, teasing the head, running a finger down the whole length before taking over Francis's attentions.
Francis could almost hear Matthieu's sweet voice breathing heavily in his ear as they worked towards his release.
His breathing was heavy, using any possible air to repeat Matthieu's name as he felt himself nearing the edge.
His eyes flew open.
"Matthieu!" He shouted his name as he came, spilling into his hands, left with the ghost of an imaginary kiss on his cheek and the memory of his fantasy.
While he cleaned himself up, he made a decision. This work was going to get done, he could go home, and fuck Mattie into his couch. Sounded like a good plan, really.
And the week after next, when he had to return to work, he could start thinking about designing a new pair of shorts. Although, he'd probably only allow a limited run of them. One would be enough.
I'm aware that this isn't great.
So thanks for reading, it would be totally awesome if you could review as well. Constrictive criticism is always welcomed :)