Author's Notes: Based on a prompt from the kink meme: "Nation A has a kink such as BDSM or rape-roleplay, and their partner Nation B seems perfectly willing to go along with it. They have a safeword, and nation A is under the impression that Nation B is fine with it. But Nation B actual ends up honestly frigtened or in pain (in the bad way), but doesn't want to tell Nation A because they really are in love and Nation B doesn't want their partner to think that they are judging or condemning them for this kink."

Warning: Non-con, extremely badly done BDSM, people with deep-seated issues.

Talking Through Walls

When it first came up, Japan ran and locked himself for the bathroom for hours.

Greece just waited there, patiently, one hand pressed to the door. Japan had sobbed on the other side, although he was obviously trying to hide it, "Please... please don't judge me, Greece-san," and Greece didn't think he'd ever heard anything more heartbreaking.

He wanted to hold Japan, to tell him it was okay, to soothe away the tears with kisses. But Japan was on the other side of a wall and would never let him do so anyway.

Once Japan had come out, they'd been able to discuss the matter more rationally. Japan had confessed – about the ropes and whips, about the many wild things he wanted. Frankly, with some of Japan's reputation it hadn't come as that much of a surprise. What came as more of a surprise was the fact Japan wanted to be the one to inflict such things, not receive them, but Greece could accept that.

"Shh..." He'd said, stroking Japan's hair softly (careful not to overstep his bounds). "I... I don't mind..."

It took some convincing. A lot of careful convincing, and negotiating. Japan insisted on being very prepared for it all; for them having set out lines and boundaries beforehand. It was kind of nice, actually. Most of Greece's encounters were spontaneous, with someone who'd be gone the next morning; being able to plan... felt comfortable. Japan, of course, did all the planning. Greece smiled and nodded and tried not to fall asleep.

He was doing this for Japan. Japan could never be honest with himself; his kinks had to be dragged out of him.

"I am so sorry, Greece-san... Please, tell me... I'm sorry. But tell me I am a good man, please?"

"...You're a good man."

"Then why do I desire such things?"

Japan needed to understand himself. To find an outlet for such feelings. To understand they weren't a shame; could be accepted by others. Greece wanted to help him, because he loved him, and recognised Japan needed this from him. He could handle whatever happened; he didn't bother much about his own feelings.

In retrospect, this was a mistake.

From the beginning, it's more than he expected. It's not a rope around his wrists (thin wires; string that can snap) but cuffs, plastic and unnatural but strong, with a metal chain hanging between them loosely. There is a rope around his elbows though, pulling them together and straining the muscles. He is curious as to whether than was really necessary, but he didn't ask when Japan was tying him up, and it's too late now. His legs are bound, too, each fixed to a corner of the bed, so he can't really move to make his arms more comfortable. Finishing it off, he has a blindfold around his eyes, and a gag in his mouth. He can still breathe, though. He just needed to remember that.

He wonders where Japan had gone for a moment. Surely the man hasn't decided he can't do it... and forgotten to let Greece go? That would be... silly.

Eventually, soft, quiet footsteps creep back into the room. Greece frowns. He'd rather if they were loud; notable, prominent, easily anticipated and hence thwarted. That's weird. Why am I thinking like that...? he wonders.

"There you are. I've been looking for you." Japan sounds nervous. It's not comforting.

The floorboards squeak and the handcuffs chafe. Japan runs a hand down his chest, over his shirt. Actually, they probably should have removed that first. Greece has never liked having sex half-dressed.

"You have been waiting, haven't you?" he asks. Greece can't answer; doesn't know how he'd be meant to if he could. Japan wasn't too clear on what the focus of this fantasy is – too embarrassed. Is it simply that he's bound and gagged? Silent and still? That he's helpless? Or is it that he isn't agreeing to this at all; that Japan's question is a lie? Each one would give a different answer.

He is supposed to tug the chain between the cuffs if he ever needs to be released. He considers doing it, just for a second, long enough to confirm what exactly they're doing. Don't be stupid, he thinks. You'll figure it out. You're good at this sort of thing.

He's not used to the ropes and chains, but he's easy-going, particularly about sex, he'll be fine.

"You're waiting for me." Japan's lips fall onto his face, pressing tiny bites and kisses on his jaw. The bites sting, but they don't hurt. He feels like he should say something, but he can't because he is, after all, gagged. A vague nervous sensation settles in his stomach, but he ignores it. He's never been one for nerves.

Slowly, his buttons come undone; that's a bit of a surprise too, honestly. He'd expect something like this to be... rougher. He doesn't quite understand. Japan is, despite how much Greece is willing to indulge him, restrained; that's just unsettling.

He decides not to think about that.

"Whore." That's more expected. Japan suddenly stands up, and the swish of fabric says he is discarding his own robes, leaving Greece there with his shirt half-undone for now. The fabric is beginning to cling with sweat, which is odd, since they've hardly done anything yet and they're at Japan's place, so it's not that warm (and those are the only two reasons he can think of he'd sweat).

Japan comes back, runs his hand over Greece's chest again. Greece hears him gasp, very quietly. "Oh my," he murmurs, touching and feeling. So gentle. It was like this the first time they had sex. It's not meant to be like this now.

"You're so... available," Japan says, and Greece accepts it. If that is how Japan wants to treat him, so be it. "You have no restraint. No restraint at all."

Something about that–

Japan suddenly swings his legs over him, coming to rest on Greece's stomach. Japan is so light, but somehow this still stops him breathing (the gag doesn't help). He starts to pant, eyes closing involuntarily (he's blindfolded). "You enjoy it, don't you?" Japan says, sounding – quizzical. "You'd enjoy any of it. I doubt this is anything you haven't done before."

It is, but did he tell Japan that? He can't remember. He thought he could handle it. He can handle it. He thinks.

He's starting to get a headache. That kind of makes him laugh.

"Don't!" Japan suddenly slaps him across the face. Greece recoils, wondering – wait, did I actually do that? He didn't really mean to laugh out loud. Hmm. He probably hurt Japan's feelings, and the sharp stab of guilt does nothing for him.

"You are not permitted to laugh at me," Japan tells him, hand on his chest again. Don't act like that. Don't be gentle. His head hurts like burning now and he has to close his eyes again. It seems funny, blocking out the black cloth covering his eyes; he is blind to his own blindness.

Stroking, softly. Japan has always loved his chest, though it took him years to admit it. The muscle there is lean, from anything he had to do, not from any purposeful attempt to build them up. Then he'd just wind up looking like Turkey (who does not have that macho physique naturally, he'd like to say), an option roughly equal to being eaten alive by giant mutant sewer rats. Japan would probably have the giant mutant sewer rats on hand.

"Or maybe... this is not enough for you?" Japan suddenly moves his hand further down, right over Greece's cock, and Greece realises he is not the slightest bit hard. That can't be a good sign; will Japan notice. Will he care, in this character; or indeed, will he care and hide it, both because his mercy is not part of the narrative, and because he hides so many things. Greece cringes. He is thinking too much. That never bodes well for anyone.

"You are so very used to being tied up, to having a person have their way with you? Is that right, Greece?"

He shudders, violently, feeling sick. Greece.Japan almost never uses only his name, using san or kun or chan or other short syllables Greece doesn't really understand. Only when he was very sleepy did he call Greece by his name alone, and then Greece had to look up what it meant anyway. It was meant to be familiarity, endearment – and he smiled, at what that must mean for Japan. Now, he feels like he's been stabbed. It just feels like a violation, an insult – and somehow doubts intimacy and familiarity are what Japan means right now.

"Of course." His pants are undone, Greece realises, and Japan strokes there gently too. Greece attempts to relax, to just lean to the touches like he's done so many times before. He's obviously not going to enjoy them, so he should just ignore the ropes, the gag, the words. It's okay for him not to have every kink, and it's okay for him to indulge Japan's regardless. He can do that; when their is something he is unhappy with, he can just remove it in his own mind. It's not pretending; such things just go away for him, and he is grateful. Not now though. The cuffs bite and the ropes claw and the gag chokes him.

He panics.

Head spinning, heart pounding, and he's in pain. He remembers – he's been in pain before, more than a few times. But he remembers it all so vaguely, by rote; it's no real help. He thinks he might be sick – in this position he might choke like that, since he's lying on his back and his mouth is secured to stop anything escaping. Japan would notice and let him go in that case, wouldn't he? He would.

Greece thinks he should stop now. The longer this is going on, the more it's getting at... whatever the actual reason he's panicking like this is.

But there is something happening, something outside his current trainwreck of a mental state. Japan needs this. He is frightened; he is frightened of himself and it is up to Greece to teach him not to be. That's how it's always been: Japan loves him, but is so full of complexes and neuroses it takes forever to let him relax, let him enjoy life. Greece is the simple one, carefree and laidback; he shows Japan how helives, and Japan uses him as an example, learning how to finally take off those shackles. Japan is restrained; he's spent centuries in chains, metaphorically. Greece should be able to handle an hour in them literally.

"Relax. You are bound, gagged and blindfolded; escape would be almost impossible." Japan still strokes him, gently; Greece's body is sweaty and he feels a chill. Cloth still sticks to him, and he cringes. He just doesn't have sex wearing clothes. That's a giveaway – a sign of rushed, frantic fucking; forcing yourself towards climax solely for relief, without stopping to think of what would be good. That's not what Greece does. He has sex for pleasure, slowly, changing and moving as he goes. He can't – he can't let the need be all of it. He has to be making choices.

Why on Earth did he ever think he could do this?

He's sliding over all levels of denial and forgetting to keep track of them; first he says it's fine, then he doesn't know why it isn't fine, then it could never have been fine to begin with. When he stops to think, he has no idea what's going on. What was he saying again?

"Don't squirm like that." Japan grabs his forearms, and Greece realises – despite the ropes and the cuffs, his arms still flail wildly. His hands are outstretched. Was he just reaching for the chain? He knows he can't pull it. To do so would be – betrayal, yes; abandoning Japan in his moment of need. He's been told he's selfish, but he doesn't believe it. "It is uncouth. Perhaps others were more lenient with you, but..."

Greece suddenly wonders why Japan wants this to begin with. He can't understand it, not at all, and it's wrong because he was trying to teach Japan someone wouldunderstand. He is at the same time, the only person who can and the one person who cannot do this for Japan.

Perhaps he is scared of the unknown. Most people are, after all.

Japan's nails dig in, ow, that hurts. That wasn't unexpected but – is he being punished? Probably. That must be part of it, and he tries to remain still. He has absolutely no idea what he's doing.

"Oh Greece," Japan whispers, and it slightly soothes his nerves as they scream. "Oh..."

He thinks Japan is moving. He can't see, admittedly, but there's the rustling off cloth and the shifting of weight on the bed, so that's a giveaway. Suddenly, Japan leans down and licks the length. He tenses and tugs against the ropes and chains. "Shh, please, don't move."

Japan has almost never gone down on him. He tried once, but he was too awkward about it not being 'normal' and Greece had some problems staying still and not gagging him. He felt really guilty about that. Of course, it's easier for Japan when he's bound and still and hence, can't do anything like move. He can't do anything. He bites into his gag as Japan sucks on the head slightly, like it was a lollipop. "This is much easier, when you're so... powerless."

That must be it. Japan wants him powerless. Japan barely wants him at all; his role is to lay here, completely still and be a target for all of Japan's fantasies. He's not meant to enjoy it. He's not meant to hate it. He must simply endure because he has no choice, and that's all he is, he's an object with no will of his own and he can't – He can't

He's getting hard in Japan's mouth, and he doesn't know what to do about that. He shouldn't be like that, when this hurts – well, he guesses it doesn't hurt. Not physically, except a little too much friction from the bindings and when Japan starts using violent methods – but that's not often. It's not what's wrong; when it hurts, he can handle it, because that's just an attack and he's gone through many of those before. But he's not wounded, he's captured, and that's the pain – he can't survive it. Being helpless is like dying. Is that what Japan wants from him...?

He has to stop changing his mind. It doesn't help his understanding of what's going on. Japan pulls back, and somehow Greece knows he's smirking (though when he tries to picture it, it all comes out wrong. Japan's not the smirking type). "I see. Somehow, I knew you'd enjoy that."

Greece doesn't know what he means. The blowjob, or... Stop confusing me, he thinks, though of course he can't say that. There aren't clear lines anymore. He doesn't know what Japan's saying; what he's referring to or whether or not he means it. He thinks it's all part of the show. But why are they putting on a show...?

It's horrible. If Japan finds out he doesn't understand, it will hurt him. Why didn't he think about this more? He owes Japan; the man needs someone to understand him. Greece thought he could be that because he always is, but he was stupid and arrogant and...

Why does this bother him so much anyway?

Japan's hand is still wrapped around his dick, breath just a little too loud. "I think you're ready, Greece-san."

Oh god, what's about to–

Japan's hands are wet, wet with a substance he's more than a little familiar with, and Greece doesn't think he's in right position for this. He's confused until the hands grasp his member again, get it wet, and oh.

Oh no.

That's not right. If it has to be like this, at least Japan should be the one too–

Japan settles on top of him, giving a quiet "Oh!" as Greece fills him utterly, just pausing with no thoughts as you what to do next. He prepared himself, he thinks vaguely, though he doesn't know what to make of it. The friction is tight, tense; it always is (given Japan's sexual history or lack thereof), but he feels like he's choking. His whole body shrieks, screeches, tries to get away, but the only sounds he makes are whining protests that sound the exact same as moaning hidden behind a gag.

It's not the attack that bothers him. It's captivity. His body is held in certain ways; it is surrounded and slowly grows deformed, and it is not just an attack he can lock into history and treat as if it doesn't affect him. Even when the cuffs are gone and the ropes are cut and his body is free and clean, he still feels like he can't escape this. He doesn't feel like this will end.

He's been captured before. Centuries stuck with that bastard Turkey, and while that never meant anything like this (no matter how hard Hungary's tried to convince people otherwise) – he can't remember, if he felt like that would end at the time. Obviously, it did. He fought for it. Why isn't he fighting now...?

Japan. You're doing this for Japan! But it's not enough; he can't do something like this for someone else – no matter how much he loves the man. He feels the urge to throw up as Japan raises himself on his knees, and for the first time he's thankful for the gag (Japan's always hated getting dirty).

He could pull the chain. He could pull it any second now and Japan would end it, he's sure. But what would that mean? He'd destroy the man he loves, and he knows neither of them would survive that. And... This is hurting him and if he pulls, that's what he says. The second he, Japan knows and it exists somewhere other than his own head. Japan would want to deal with it, to examine, to try and help him – Greece wouldn't survive that. He has to be able to take these events and brush them aside, in boxes and files in his memory he'll never look at again because he's... not too great at organisation.

He can't be restrained by anything, and that includes his own neuroses. Is that why he didn't think of this all before? These are the things that lurk at the back of his mind; a fucked-up worldview all to his own. God knows there aren't enough of those around.

"You're so quiet," Japan comments, seeming composed and elegant even with Greece's dick halfway inside him (the first time Greece had him he was screaming, moaning. He's terrible for smiling about that). "Even more than usual. You're... obedient. You have to do what I want. That makes it so much easier."

He suddenly thinks of when he was much younger; of his mother and all her philosophers. Aristotle would hate him. He's gone through every defect and excess on the list.

"Please, just a little more..." Japan's breath is starting to get short. Greece should find that a comfort – and he does. And that makes it worse again.

He hates grey areas. Now, for example – Japan has captured him, is using him, is hurting him... and he would be free if he could bring himself to pull that shiny chain, dangling above his head like a piece of string to a kitten. But he can't. He's the one preventing that; his own mind keeps him bound, both because he needs to be that person Japan can do this to... and because he can't let Japan know he's not.

He is currently in the exact middle of freedom and captivity. And it's not Japan keeping him there. If he does anything to reveal this... it will never go away; without the rope or the cuffs, he'll still be trapped.

He must be utterly free or else he is forever a slave.

There's no mean to that; sorry Aristotle. This has to be okay with him, because that's who he is, the sort of person who's okay with this sort of thing – he's indulgent, both to others and himself. It's why he sleeps all day except for when he sleeps around, why he eats as much as anyone, why he never holds back from fulfilling any desire – or need. He can't take restraint, not even self-restraint. If he held himself back, he'd never know when it would end – he must be free again someday. When did he get this whole complex anyway?

"Oh... ah... oh..." Japan's reduced to moans and whimpers, and Greece finds out little sounds are coming out of his mouth around his gag too.

He's still hard, and close by the looks of things; Japan is red and flushed and clearly adoring everything that happens here; Greece doesn't know how long it's been or if this is an appropriate amount of time to have passed before they come, but Japan isn't screaming this time and he just bites into the gag, wanting to crush the stupid thing between his teeth.

Japan surrounds him, smothers him again and again and he can't breathe, not with the ropes and the gag, and it's funny to come back from all his psychological reflection to what is actually happening and perhaps that's it, perhaps none of this really means anything he thinks it does; maybe he'll forget like he forgets so many things because people are always telling him he's pretentious anyway–

"Aaaaaaah!" Japan gasps and shrieks his way through orgasm, his thrusts progressively getting slower and shallower as he tries to wring out the last drops of pleasure. Greece lets his mouth fall open, lets his body loosen, lets his eyes slide shut underneath the blindfold. He comes inside Japan, and it is over and this is not as unfamiliar to him as everything else. It, like everything, ends. He survived it.

"Oh – oh god. Oh no."

There's a sudden frantic clawing at his blindfold, his ropes, his cuffs. For a second, he doesn't really know what is happening. Then he feels something in his hands, metallic and cool.

"Greece – Greece-san – Oh god, I didn't mean to – please, tell me you are alright; did you just grab that in a fit of – Greece-san?"

San. That's formal, isn't it? he thinks as he runs his fingers over the chain, feeling the bumps. Japan knows. Japan knows, and he will see every messed up idea Greece has, and Greece has to tell him or else Japan will blame himself, and he's not the sort of person who can let someone else get hurt for his sake.

He's never been good at letting himself get hurt for someone else's sake either.

The gag suddenly comes away and Greece, with open eyes staring into Japan's tearful expression, feels the urge to throw up.

He pushes Japan off and runs for the bathroom.

He doesn't head for the toilet when he first gets there, but instead, he opens the window. He's not planning on escape through there, but still he needs it as an escape route. It doesn't make sense in his mind, exactly – well, maybe it does in his subconscious. He's not sure.

Then he collapses.

He's not ashamed of it; his body is exhausted and he bows to its need for rest. If there is any time it's appropriate to indulge himself, it's now.

"Greece! Greece-san!" He hears a thunk from outside the door which is most likely Japan collapsing to his knees. "Please... Come out, speak."

The door is locked. Greece hates locking doors; maybe that's why he needed the window? Too many maybes. They make his head hurt.

"Please, Greece... if you demonstrated you were not okay with it earlier, I swear I would have..."

Earlier. But I didn't want to do that to you, he thinks. He wonders if Japan was meant to notice on his own – even with all his problems getting out, shouldn't Japan have noticed something there? Whose responsibility was it to stop this again? He didn't ask questions because he didn't believe he needed to know; he exists in complete ignorance of just how damaged he truly is. He should have known that before he got into this. Perhaps Japan should have?

It's tempting, to blame it all on Japan just to stop that constant grey. But it's not Japan's fault, not really. He followed the rules as best he could. It's not Greece's fault either – it turns out he's a trainwreck. Not like he knew.

The grey. He feels nauseous again. He knew it'd never leave him.

"Greece-kun!" Japan cried when he hears Greece's vomit splash against the water. Slowly, Greece crawls across the bathroom floor and places a hand against the door. "Please..."

Japan is crying again, and trying very hard to hide it. Greece has to talk to him through a wall. This was how it was always going to be. Nothing ever changes and the grey never leaves.