It was the first time he had ever slipped his fingers beneath the dainty fabric of Hungary’s petticoat. They had been young still, fumbling and inexperienced. But the piano-trained talent of Austria’s fingers had made up for it. He’d rubbed against the thin, damp cloth that remained between them, circling and pressing as he felt out a part of Hungary he had never seen. He remembered, still, setting a tempo for himself in his nervousness, something he knew to guide him in this unfamiliar territory. And it was to the slow, reliable largo that Hungary had tensed under his touch, uttered the tiniest of cries, and slumped against him, panting against his neck as she trembled.
And thus largo seemed appropriate for now, for a familiar activity in an unfamiliar setting, playing an instrument he had not yet mastered.
The orchestra began to build slowly, almost imperceptible to the untrained ear. A theme was started in the woodwinds, murmured between the flutes and the clarinets like a secret before fading away again, to be revived only a few moments later with more confidence. With that same gradual feeling in mind, Austria silently activated the device.
He felt Hungary immediately stiffen beside him, gasp just a little as finally she was given the sensation she had so desired. And in the way her breath caught and her pulse sped, Austria could nearly feel for himself what it was she was feeling. That shared heat pooled deep in his stomach.
Gently, he stroked her hand, keeping his eyes fixed on the stage despite the overwhelming temptation to turn and feast his eyes on Hungary. He could almost see her lip quivering in pleasure as she struggled to maintain the composed façade she was sure to be putting forward. The desire to see instead of imagine flared in Austria's chest, nearly overcoming his willpower. But he resisted.
After all, there was no fun if he did not deny himself a little, too.
Instead, he moved to rub his thumb tenderly across the flesh at the very inside of her palm. The skin there was so soft, smooth, yielding to him easily. It had long been one of Austria’s favorite places to touch, during long dinners and longer meetings. It was innocent, and yet…
A muted noise came from Hungary, the very beginnings of a moan bitten back just a little too late. The subtle smile on Austria’s face grew.
Innocent, and yet so perfectly effective.
------
Wow, that was a misfire, a de-anon, and character limit all at once! I am on a ROLL!
Oh AusHun, you crazy kids. To be continued before - yes, before the weekend this time! Hope you enjoyed!
I want to know who you are and stalk your writing forever. This is beautiful. Perfect. Hot as hell. I can't even. You are currently my favorite person, congratulations. I cannot get enough of this fic. Seriously.
Anon! I can't even form a coherent thought! You've brought together all the wonderful things. Take all my internets! *throws internets at anon* Just take them! And update soon!
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Sweet Music (4.5/?)
(Anonymous) 2012-02-20 04:31 am (UTC)(link)And thus largo seemed appropriate for now, for a familiar activity in an unfamiliar setting, playing an instrument he had not yet mastered.
The orchestra began to build slowly, almost imperceptible to the untrained ear. A theme was started in the woodwinds, murmured between the flutes and the clarinets like a secret before fading away again, to be revived only a few moments later with more confidence. With that same gradual feeling in mind, Austria silently activated the device.
He felt Hungary immediately stiffen beside him, gasp just a little as finally she was given the sensation she had so desired. And in the way her breath caught and her pulse sped, Austria could nearly feel for himself what it was she was feeling. That shared heat pooled deep in his stomach.
Gently, he stroked her hand, keeping his eyes fixed on the stage despite the overwhelming temptation to turn and feast his eyes on Hungary. He could almost see her lip quivering in pleasure as she struggled to maintain the composed façade she was sure to be putting forward. The desire to see instead of imagine flared in Austria's chest, nearly overcoming his willpower. But he resisted.
After all, there was no fun if he did not deny himself a little, too.
Instead, he moved to rub his thumb tenderly across the flesh at the very inside of her palm. The skin there was so soft, smooth, yielding to him easily. It had long been one of Austria’s favorite places to touch, during long dinners and longer meetings. It was innocent, and yet…
A muted noise came from Hungary, the very beginnings of a moan bitten back just a little too late. The subtle smile on Austria’s face grew.
Innocent, and yet so perfectly effective.
------
Wow, that was a misfire, a de-anon, and character limit all at once! I am on a ROLL!
Oh AusHun, you crazy kids. To be continued before - yes, before the weekend this time! Hope you enjoyed!
orch dork has no words
(Anonymous) 2012-02-20 10:48 pm (UTC)(link)Re: Sweet Music (4.5/?)
(Anonymous) 2012-02-21 08:22 pm (UTC)(link)Re: Sweet Music (4.5/?)
(Anonymous) 2012-02-22 01:31 am (UTC)(link)