The lube bottle opens, and France watches Prussia squeeze more than the necessary amount into his hand, sees him toss the bottle aside and slick up his fingers. He bends Romano’s legs back, out of the way, and France can see everything from the angle. How Prussia’s stubby fingers tease the outside of the tight, oh so tight pucker, the way he rubs over it hotly but then slows down to tweak the tight skin of it. Romano’s still squirming, though he sounds less excited and a little more cautious, so France gives Spain’s ass a gentle nudge to remind him of his task.
“Sorry, Roma,” Spain murmurs, catching on; he turns his head away from the show he can probably barely see, and goes back to kissing Romano like their mutual existence depends on it. When Romano’s suitably distracted, Prussia gives a muted little cackle and presses a finger in; Romano’s legs twitch, but otherwise he barely reacts.
France opts to abandon his cock, as hard and ready as he is, and comes up behind Prussia. What little of Romano’s face he can see is so red, France decides the tomato analogy might not be too far off, but he wisely decides to say nothing of it. He puts a hand on Prussia’s ass and kneads, the other starts scraping down Prussia’s chiseled back.
“Ah fuck,” he hisses, turning to grin at France nonetheless. “My finger almost slipped all the way up.”
“Shame.”
“Don’t you dare fucking stop,” Prussia commands, before turning back around to inspect Romano’s opening. France can no longer see what’s going on down there, but when Romano breaks his kiss with Spain to bite his lip, it gives him a pretty good idea.
“Fuck, I forgot how weird this feels,” Romano swears under his breath, but he’s panting so hard that it’s quite audible. He pushes Spain away and squirms a little more, and Prussia must be moving as well because within seconds Romano is gasping in pleasure.
“So,” Prussia says through gritted teeth and a grin, “how are we going to do this?”
“He sucks you off; Spain will fuck him in turn, just like I said earlier.”
Prussia snorts. “And what are you going to do, just sit there and tenderize your wurst?”
France spanks him for that analogy, drawing a swear and a hiss from Prussia. “Hardly. I’m going to suck him off, like I promised.” He slides off the bed, wiggling his hips and bending his knees as he wriggles his way out of his pants--maybe a bit too tight, but it makes being naked, save for the cross hanging on a golden chain, much more satisfying.
“Spread your knees,” France says, nudging Prussia’s thighs apart with his hands. He swears in German as he wriggles his way between Prussia and Romano’s legs, Romano’s cock rubbing up against his cheek. He grins and turns to nuzzle it, obviously too drunk to realize how ridiculous he looks, or else he wouldn’t be doing it. He wipes the precum and spit off his cheek with a finger and laps it up.
Romano stares at him, eyes glassy and hazy and he wouldn’t have it any other way. “I...” he says, too far gone in pleasure, floating on their fingers and varied gentleness, completely at their mercy.
“Prussia,” France says, “switch places with Spain. Stand on the bed if you have to.” And then he puts his mouth to an altogether more useful task--bathing Romano’s cock with a saliva-slicked tongue.
Romano’s reaction is instantaneous; for a moment France fears he is going to come before they’ve even had time to play. He doesn’t, though, so France continues his ministrations, watching as Prussia does stand up on the bed, only to crouch above Romano’s face, his ass very nearly blocking France’s view despite its boniness. Romano’s hands grip Prussia’s hips tightly, and he very slowly pulls himself up. France doesn’t stop sucking as he watches Romano tentatively lick Prussia’s dick, sees him pucker his lips and apparently decide he doesn’t mind the taste.
Re: And Then They All Fucked, And Made Everything Worse: The Fanfic [1m/?]
“Sorry, Roma,” Spain murmurs, catching on; he turns his head away from the show he can probably barely see, and goes back to kissing Romano like their mutual existence depends on it. When Romano’s suitably distracted, Prussia gives a muted little cackle and presses a finger in; Romano’s legs twitch, but otherwise he barely reacts.
France opts to abandon his cock, as hard and ready as he is, and comes up behind Prussia. What little of Romano’s face he can see is so red, France decides the tomato analogy might not be too far off, but he wisely decides to say nothing of it. He puts a hand on Prussia’s ass and kneads, the other starts scraping down Prussia’s chiseled back.
“Ah fuck,” he hisses, turning to grin at France nonetheless. “My finger almost slipped all the way up.”
“Shame.”
“Don’t you dare fucking stop,” Prussia commands, before turning back around to inspect Romano’s opening. France can no longer see what’s going on down there, but when Romano breaks his kiss with Spain to bite his lip, it gives him a pretty good idea.
“Fuck, I forgot how weird this feels,” Romano swears under his breath, but he’s panting so hard that it’s quite audible. He pushes Spain away and squirms a little more, and Prussia must be moving as well because within seconds Romano is gasping in pleasure.
“So,” Prussia says through gritted teeth and a grin, “how are we going to do this?”
“He sucks you off; Spain will fuck him in turn, just like I said earlier.”
Prussia snorts. “And what are you going to do, just sit there and tenderize your wurst?”
France spanks him for that analogy, drawing a swear and a hiss from Prussia. “Hardly. I’m going to suck him off, like I promised.” He slides off the bed, wiggling his hips and bending his knees as he wriggles his way out of his pants--maybe a bit too tight, but it makes being naked, save for the cross hanging on a golden chain, much more satisfying.
“Spread your knees,” France says, nudging Prussia’s thighs apart with his hands. He swears in German as he wriggles his way between Prussia and Romano’s legs, Romano’s cock rubbing up against his cheek. He grins and turns to nuzzle it, obviously too drunk to realize how ridiculous he looks, or else he wouldn’t be doing it. He wipes the precum and spit off his cheek with a finger and laps it up.
Romano stares at him, eyes glassy and hazy and he wouldn’t have it any other way. “I...” he says, too far gone in pleasure, floating on their fingers and varied gentleness, completely at their mercy.
“Prussia,” France says, “switch places with Spain. Stand on the bed if you have to.” And then he puts his mouth to an altogether more useful task--bathing Romano’s cock with a saliva-slicked tongue.
Romano’s reaction is instantaneous; for a moment France fears he is going to come before they’ve even had time to play. He doesn’t, though, so France continues his ministrations, watching as Prussia does stand up on the bed, only to crouch above Romano’s face, his ass very nearly blocking France’s view despite its boniness. Romano’s hands grip Prussia’s hips tightly, and he very slowly pulls himself up. France doesn’t stop sucking as he watches Romano tentatively lick Prussia’s dick, sees him pucker his lips and apparently decide he doesn’t mind the taste.