Past-Part Fills Part 7

[hetalia_kink]

Past-Part Fills Part Seven

Fills from past parts can go here!
Fills from the current part MUST go in that part's post until it is full.

Include a link to the original request (and if an ongoing fill, any previous chapters/sections).

The 'Anything Goes' request is here if you need it.

Then, don't forget to link your new fill at the fill index and under the original request.

Keep yourself up to date: check out the news.
Comments and Suggestions go here.

Past-Part Fills 1 | Past-Part Fills 2 | Past-Part Fills 3 | Past-Part Fills 4 | Past-Part Fills 5 | Past-Part Fills 6

Comments

"Red Shall Thy Petals Be" (9/?)

[(Anonymous)]

England goes right to bed when they get home, pleading exhaustion. North is getting too old to be tucked in all the time, he tells himself. Contrary to the belief of certain irritating relatives of his, he does know when to let go.

Changing into pyjamas is a slow process. He's grateful, at least, that all the bruises are on his back, where he can't easily see them. He unbuttons his shirt slowly, trying not think about anything at all, especially the shirt he left crumpled on the kitchen floor this morning.

It's not until he climbs into bed - they changed the sheets for him, and put the quilt back on; he's stricken by an odd sense of gratitude - that he spots the note folded on the base of his bedside lamp.

Scotland's handwriting. Once North is asleep, come to my room. Don't make noise.

Why his room? Well, it is on the opposite side of the house, now England thinks about it. Cut off behind the study, upstairs, where his brother could peacably avoid him and his snoring wouldn't wake England at all hours. A good place not to be heard.

He turns the light off and lies down atop the covers. Fifteen minutes, that should be enough time.

--

He pads up to his brother's bedroom door twenty minutes later. His slippers don't make much noise on the hall floor, and England hovers outside it, wondering if it's better ro stand here and dread it, burst in, or try to slink away. The note said Come, and he came, and it didn't say Stay, after all. He could go have a nice cup of tea and then go to bed.

There's something coiling in his guts, though, a thick feeling of anticipation. He doesn't know what will happen. He's sure it will be painful. But there's something sharp and delicious about pain, something worthwhile, and if it has to come with him on his knees in front of hs brothers, well -

They have the best claim on him. The longest, closest reasons to want him in pain.

It's only fair. And England does believe in fair play.

England has just lifted his hand to knock when the door oppens, and light spills into the hall. Not much; Scotlandis standing in the door, smirking. He puts a finger to his lips and tugs hhis brother inside. The door shuts behind him with a very final click. England takes a deep breath, and tugs at the sash of his dressing gown.

--

It's familiar by now. Kneeling, hands behind his back. The only light is one candle; it would seem sinister, but England knows it's because the lightbulb went out last week, and they've been having a simmering argument over who buys a new one. Wales is perched on the desk, ignoring the perfectly good chair as a seating place in favour of resting his feet on it; he would look nicely brooding and mysterious if he weren't in flannel pyjamas. Scotland is naked, sitting on the edge of the bed.

England swallows, suddenly aware of just how much hair his brother has. All over his body.

"C'mere," Scotland whispers, and pats his knee with one of those oversize hands, and England can't hold back a whimper as he shuffles forward on his knees. He gets close enough to lay his head on his brother's knee, and does it. It wasn't an order, but it feels right.

It doesn't take any more orders for him to nuzzle close, up the muscular thigh. Scotland's hand is tangled in his hair, urging him on. He takes a deep breath. "What are you doing?" Wales whispers suddenly.

"What," Scotland growls low, "does it look like?"

England looks up. They're doing another Look. Then Wales sighs, and even by candlelight he looks nervous and petulant. "I suppose it's alright to let him. Since he's under orders. England, don't you dare use your teeth. Make it good, as much as you know how." Hw slips to the floor, silent as a cat, and pads over to perch beside his brother on the bed.

That remark, now England thinks about it, explains a lot about the occasional times he and Wales have tumbled into bed.

He puts the thought firmly from his mind, and wraps his lips around his brother's cock. It gets an appreciative gasps, and a hand in his hair, holding his head close. He licks tenatively at the vein, swallowing nervously. It's not unpleasant. Not unpleasant at all.

--

Re: "Red Shall Thy Petals Be" (9/?)

[(Anonymous)]

There's something coiling in his guts, though, a thick feeling of anticipation. He doesn't know what will happen. He's sure it will be painful. But there's something sharp and delicious about pain, something worthwhile, and if it has to come with him on his knees in front of hs brothers, well -

They have the best claim on him. The longest, closest reasons to want him in pain.

It's only fair. And England does believe in fair play.

This part and just England's thoughts are giving me so many feels and everything is just so.damn.amazing and I know 24 hours are 24 hours but I hope this will continue for quite many chapters from now on.

This fic makes my current days so so much brighter, I get stupidly excited with every update and it never disappoints, it was and still is literally everything I ever wanted from KM.

Re: "Red Shall Thy Petals Be" (9/?)

[(Anonymous)]

Still reading this and still loving it, anon. I look forward to every update. :) And oral now too? Yummy.

Re: "Red Shall Thy Petals Be" (9/?)

[(Anonymous)]

Gorgeous as ever. You have me hooked.