It is mid-afternoon. The sunlight glints on the broken glass, as bright as it's going to get today. The guards see him come, see him sit with his back against the wall and lean his head back, but no one would be stupid enough to run in the middle of a clear day, so after glancing over to ascertain that he's not a crazy person, they turn back to their cigarettes and their own conversation.
Prussia lost his own radio somewhere in the smoke and the carnage and a crunching soviet boot, but he scavenged a decent one of the corpse of a British light artillery, corporal, so he pulls it out, fiddles with the damaged antenna, and turns it to their channel.
"I'm here," he murmurs, and waits.
"Gil," West replies, eager and concerned and fond at once, the sincerity in his voice clear despite the faint crackling and hiss of static.
"Hey West," Gil says, and doesn't choke on the soft words, even though his throat kind of wants to.
"You okay?" West asks softly. Gil's eyes flutter closed, his fingers dusting over the fresh bruises dug into his hips as he tries to ignore the memories of heat and weight and ominous promises in the dark. Prussia is the older brother. He can do this. He can be strong for his brother - he has to be strong for West, because if he didn't have West to worry about, then - then nothing. He may be beaten, but he can still do his duty to his family, damn it. War is hard on everyone. Prussia a tough bastard. He isn't going to cry like a little baby just because -
"I'm fine," he croaks, keeping it steady. "Pretty busy, fixing up damaged buildings. Ivan's batshit, but he's fair enough," Gil lies.
"I'm glad," West tells him warmly, and it makes Gil ache like pieces inside of him are rusting and breaking.
"I miss you," he whispers, the radio shaking in his damp palm. "I miss your eyes, how intense they always are. Your hair sliding through my fingers. It's so fine, West; even when you were a baby it was like that. I miss that noise you used to make when I bit your neck just right."
West does it, a soft little keening sound right into the radio.
"What are you doing?" Prussia asks, his voice low and heated.
"Oh - pinching - remembering your teeth, Gil, the way you'd torment me-"
"Yes," Prussia hisses, "Remember that. Remember me. I’m biting you. Your stark, dark pink nipples. Can you feel my mouth, West?”
“Yes, I – oh, fuck, Gil, your mouth–” West gasps.
“Sucking on them,” Prussia pants, his free hand grinding down on the damp spot on his pants, “–can you feel–”
“I feel your mouth. Can you taste my nipples?”
“Yes, gott, sweet little nubs under my tongue–”
“I feel your tongue, Gil, wet and shameless, you were always so shameless–” West groans, the way he always did when –
“You’re arching your back,” Prussia knows, “I’m making you, twisting you out of your stiff, formal–”
“Yes,” West growls, "please," puffing breaths almost obscuring the words over the radio. “Making me lose it, always, you–”
“My mouth on your stomach, sucking, I’m sliding down, West, can you feel me–”
“I feel you, can you–”
“I feel your skin, West, it’s so hot, you’re blushing all the way down your stomach, red and hot and beautiful–”
“You torment me–”
“My fingers are on your thighs, West, tugging them open,” Prussia hisses.
“Gil – ah! It tickles, your fingers are on me and–”
“Sucking you. West, I’m sucking you, I have your cock in my mouth, so hard, my lips around you, you're thick and deep and delicious–”
“Oh Gott yes–”
“Can you feel–”
“I feel you, Gil, can-”
“Feel you, so deep, bumping my throat, salt and musk tasting you, swallowing, please, West, let me taste you–”
“Always–”
“Remember me,” Prussia whispers, hips jerking inside his pants, letting his finger slip off the talk button and lose his words to the rubble and the concrete and the spots of reflected sun on the ground.
~*~
Notes: I totally patterned some of this off of the "feel without touching" scenes from the movie Bent, which is a great film as well as filthy hot.
... is totally squirming in her seat right now. Unf. Loved the stifled emotion at the beginning and the almost-wholly dialogue exchanges during the radiosex itself. And fuck, the ending was gorgeous. This totally got all my kink buttons and more.
Thanks so much, writernon, I'm totally going to be over here rereading this for a while. ♥ (And putting that movie down to see later, oh yes.)
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Bloody hell, Germanycest, OFF my brain. OFF.
(Anonymous) 2009-03-16 06:15 pm (UTC)(link)Germany/Prussia, radiosex across the wall
(Anonymous) 2009-03-21 05:30 pm (UTC)(link)Prussia lost his own radio somewhere in the smoke and the carnage and a crunching soviet boot, but he scavenged a decent one of the corpse of a British light artillery, corporal, so he pulls it out, fiddles with the damaged antenna, and turns it to their channel.
"I'm here," he murmurs, and waits.
"Gil," West replies, eager and concerned and fond at once, the sincerity in his voice clear despite the faint crackling and hiss of static.
"Hey West," Gil says, and doesn't choke on the soft words, even though his throat kind of wants to.
"You okay?" West asks softly. Gil's eyes flutter closed, his fingers dusting over the fresh bruises dug into his hips as he tries to ignore the memories of heat and weight and ominous promises in the dark. Prussia is the older brother. He can do this. He can be strong for his brother - he has to be strong for West, because if he didn't have West to worry about, then - then nothing. He may be beaten, but he can still do his duty to his family, damn it. War is hard on everyone. Prussia a tough bastard. He isn't going to cry like a little baby just because -
"I'm fine," he croaks, keeping it steady. "Pretty busy, fixing up damaged buildings. Ivan's batshit, but he's fair enough," Gil lies.
"I'm glad," West tells him warmly, and it makes Gil ache like pieces inside of him are rusting and breaking.
"I miss you," he whispers, the radio shaking in his damp palm. "I miss your eyes, how intense they always are. Your hair sliding through my fingers. It's so fine, West; even when you were a baby it was like that. I miss that noise you used to make when I bit your neck just right."
West does it, a soft little keening sound right into the radio.
"What are you doing?" Prussia asks, his voice low and heated.
"Oh - pinching - remembering your teeth, Gil, the way you'd torment me-"
"Yes," Prussia hisses, "Remember that. Remember me. I’m biting you. Your stark, dark pink nipples. Can you feel my mouth, West?”
“Yes, I – oh, fuck, Gil, your mouth–” West gasps.
“Sucking on them,” Prussia pants, his free hand grinding down on the damp spot on his pants, “–can you feel–”
“I feel your mouth. Can you taste my nipples?”
“Yes, gott, sweet little nubs under my tongue–”
“I feel your tongue, Gil, wet and shameless, you were always so shameless–” West groans, the way he always did when –
“You’re arching your back,” Prussia knows, “I’m making you, twisting you out of your stiff, formal–”
“Yes,” West growls, "please," puffing breaths almost obscuring the words over the radio. “Making me lose it, always, you–”
“My mouth on your stomach, sucking, I’m sliding down, West, can you feel me–”
“I feel you, can you–”
“I feel your skin, West, it’s so hot, you’re blushing all the way down your stomach, red and hot and beautiful–”
“You torment me–”
“My fingers are on your thighs, West, tugging them open,” Prussia hisses.
“Gil – ah! It tickles, your fingers are on me and–”
“Sucking you. West, I’m sucking you, I have your cock in my mouth, so hard, my lips around you, you're thick and deep and delicious–”
“Oh Gott yes–”
“Can you feel–”
“I feel you, Gil, can-”
“Feel you, so deep, bumping my throat, salt and musk tasting you, swallowing, please, West, let me taste you–”
“Always–”
“Remember me,” Prussia whispers, hips jerking inside his pants, letting his finger slip off the talk button and lose his words to the rubble and the concrete and the spots of reflected sun on the ground.
~*~
Notes: I totally patterned some of this off of the "feel without touching" scenes from the movie Bent, which is a great film as well as filthy hot.
Re: Germany/Prussia, radiosex across the wall
(Anonymous) 2009-03-21 10:01 pm (UTC)(link)OP
(Anonymous) 2009-03-22 04:06 am (UTC)(link)Thanks so much, writernon, I'm totally going to be over here rereading this for a while. ♥ (And putting that movie down to see later, oh yes.)
Re: Germany/Prussia, radiosex across the wall
(Anonymous) 2009-03-22 04:50 am (UTC)(link)Re: Germany/Prussia, radiosex across the wall
(Anonymous) 2009-03-22 01:03 pm (UTC)(link)Not OP, but...
(Anonymous) 2010-02-28 12:32 am (UTC)(link)Elena!anon would like to request marriage? C: