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Odoru... And Then Some	By : CyreliaJ Category: +G to L > Hetalia: Axis Powers Views: 1631 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or any of its characters. I'm also not making any money off of this.

Chapter List
- 1-Odoru... And Then Some
- 1
   I don’t know why the hell I’m the one who has to apologize to this asshole. The Germany in his head reminds him rather pointedly that it was he who insulted Austria to begin with drunk or not so it should be he that makes it right. And you’re the one fucking him so I still say you oughta be the one here licking his fucking pisshole and begging him to come back, not me. Prussia taps his foot half looking like Sonic the Hedgehog waiting for Austria to find the front door in the ridiculous house that he lives in. You’d think you’d be missing having something to stick your dick in at the very least even if it is that pinch faced asshole. Prussia sighs. Work. That’s what Germany had said. This was a chance to catch up his work of all things without Austria’s distraction. Ch’ and then he blushes like that prude probably does any more than spread ‘em and stare at the ceiling sipping tea or some-
   The door opens and Prussia glowers at Austria. Austria looks disdainfully back.
“This isn’t a good time,” He answers tersely and Prussia is about to snap back that he didn’t ride the fucking train from Berlin to Vienna just to have this girly motherfucker slam the door in his face. Yeah, gimme a reason, princess and I’ll sack the damn place.
“Yeah well you better make it a good time,” Prussia answers jamming a foot in the door before Austria can slam it shut. It’s then he notices that Austria far from being his usual put together prissy self is wearing what appears to be nothing but a long belted blue robe. His hair is also messily falling into his face, far too long. “Unless you got company or something?” He raises a leering brow and if anything Austria looks at him even more icily. Prussia doesn’t know how he manages to look so austere as disheveled as he is.
“Don’t be absurd.” Austria crosses his arms making no move to invite him in. “Why are you here? I thought the prince had you answering his email.”
   Prussia blanches blowing out a puff of breath looking to the side scratching the back of his head. Yeah, something like that for all of a month until his royal highness decided that perhaps he ought to just keep his ceremonial position at the castle as part of the fucking scenery- the ungrateful little twerp.
“Hey we’re not here to talk about me, blame my brother ‘cause I sure as shit wasn’t gonna come over here kissing your ass but he insisted so...” Prussia trails off seeing Austria demeanor shift dramatically at that announcement. He uncrosses his arms and blinks a few times, looking down, one hand appearing to try and hold up the doorframe.
“Is that so... Ludwig... sent you here?” He says it so weirdly that Prussia almost wonders if he’s being Punk’d or something.
“Yeah said he’s too busy for... for whatever the hell he was rambling about I don’t know what he thinks I’m gonna do for you except I ain’t apologizing for some shit I don’t even remember so why don’t you let me inside already so we can start packing all your crap back up already.”
   Austria looks up at him like he thinks he’s lying. He has that squint eyed expression that the glasses only magnify.
“You... don’t remember?” He doesn’t give Prussia time to answer, only looks contemplative before smiling to himself. He shakes his head. “Yes well why don’t you come in and I’ll tell you all the reasons you’re an unmitigated ass and perhaps it will jog your memory.” He turns before Prussia can say anything further and starts down the long hallway. Prussia almost forget to close the door as he follows him.
“Yeah I’m sure whatever it was you had it coming. You know West is sitting in that office of his doing your fucking paperwork and don’t think for a second I buy that you’re such a good fuck that-“
“He says I don’t pay proper attention to my work,” Austria cuts in as they approach the music room. “He says it’s sloppy.” Austria sounds annoyed and Prussia can almost picture Germany, glasses on his nose lecturing the little master about doing a half assed job. He snickers as Austria opens the door.
“Heh, yeah sure sounds like him alr- what the hell did you do in here?!”
   Prussia stops and stares stupidly at the mirrors that seem to line every inch of the walls, and focuses particularly on the piano that’s been moved to the far left corner. He also sees the speakers also in each corner, console on a table in front of the window with a music player labelled with bright dots, and a sheet of what’s probably instructions if he knows Austria and anything technical. Austria ignores him as he walks to the piano.
“Close the door and then step to the right.” Prussia obeys him dumbly still trying to figure out what’s going on and wondering what in seven hells this has to do with him pissing off Austria.
“Yeah so you wanna tell me why-“
“You said I couldn’t dance.” Austria interrupts him. Prussia can only see his back but he sees Austria set his glasses down on top of the piano.
“What?” Dance? What the hell was that about?
“You were watching that woman and you said in that rather charming vernacular of yours ‘Now that’s how a real bitch dances, motherfuckers.’” Prussia can just hear him wrinkling his nose as he undoes the belt.
   “Yeah whatever I don’t see what the hell that has to-“ Oh. Ohhh yeah now he remembers. That pink haired number in the sneakers going wild on the floor and Austria... yeah Austria saying some shit about real dancing and ability and Prussia’s pretty sure that’s when he stuck his foot in his mouth as Germany would say and challenged him to prove that his stupid clumsy ass could do more than follow Hungary in a waltz since he was pretty sure he hadn’t danced since the royal family still lived in Schönbrunn. Yeah that was about where Austria got a pissy look and the next day he was rambling on about showing Prussia what for and moving out ’til he did and Germany saying at least he wouldn’t be distracted during his busiest weeks of the year. Yeah fat lot of good that did him when he was bored and Austria was... Prussia’s eyes go wide as the robe drops and the finest ass he’s ever seen in his life- and where the hell was Austria hiding that all these years- comes into view covered in a pair of shorts so tight and short they look like they got half swallowed up by that luscious-
   “...said it was a waste of time and that who cares what you say since you’re so thoughtless anyway but I have my pride after all...” He turns and from God only knows where- because Prussia sure as hell isn’t paying attention to anything but the bare small of Austria’s back curved down to that gorgeous round- he pulls out a pair of white heels. Really high heels Prussia notes as Austria takes a seat on the piano bench to slip them on his feet and thread the buckle bent over those long legs (that Prussia right until this moment would have described as skinny like the rest of him) not even paying him the least bit of attention. “...of all people was nice enough to set the system up so that I could practice and I suppose if Ludwig sent you over here now’s as good a time as any to show you just how much of a loudmouth imbecile you are.” The shaggy brown hair half falls over Austria’s face in a way strands tickling sculpted cheekbones and lips that look more pursed in thought than pinched unattractively in irritation and Christ is this what the hell Germany gets all to himself that the rest of the world never sees?! Prussia watches the cropped black top slide off one pale shoulder that’s so nicely rounded but just square enough to still be obviously male... Fuck fuck fuck if you’re just playing some kinda weird game with me...
   “But if Ludwig sent you here then clearly...” His tone changes all at one and Austria sits up and looks at him with the hottest most “bend me over and fuck me” expression he’s ever seen on a human face. The breath that Austria lets out as his eyes roam up and down Prussia’s body clearly have put the challenge back into Prussia’s court even if it is Austria who’s claiming to be accepting it. “Clearly he meant for you to...” Austria shakes his hair, those eyes far more piercing without the glasses to hide behind as he shoots him a smoldering look walking to the console. “I’ve always suspected you were nothing but talk, Gilbert but Ludwig says you’re...” He glances over the instructions and carefully cues up the stereo turning the dial to a pre marked line licking his lips turning his face away fingers tracing down his cheek. Okay, who the hell are you and what the fuck did you do with Roderich ‘cause that asshole has a stick up his ass like a sonofabitch and his ass sure as hell doesn’t look like... Coat! It was that damn fucking jacket that whole time! The jacket, the glasses, the buttoned up sleeves every last bit of it you sneaky little bastard this whole time you’ve been hiding this all for him haven’t you?! West you are a helluva lot sneakier than I ever gave you credit for you swine!
“There’s no way in shitting hell my brother sent me over here to fuck his lover.”
   Austria sniffs disdainfully and it’s enough for Prussia to connect the sex bomb walking to the center of the room with the prissy ball of cunt he’s accustomed to. Austria doesn’t answer him however in his usual fashion when Prussia says something he thinks is so stupid it doesn’t warrant an answer. Yeah fuck you like it was such a stupid question if I was Ludwig and I had a bitch with an ass and a mouth like that hanging off my dick all the time I’d... The bass and synthesizers kick in out of nowhere just as fireworks erupt in Prussia’s brain in a complete moment of fraternal clarity. Hahaha. Austria’s legs are shoulder width apart, those hips moving back and forth, arms going back over his head in succession drawing that already short top up to more of Austria’s flat pale stomach. Kesesese I always knew you were a workaholic, brother but you’re a fucking lunatic... Austria gives him just a small smile of praise seeing the synaptic connections fire off before he bends his knees swaying more deeply, moving those hips around with an obvious invitation, hands on his thighs- thighs, legs that look like they’ve been shaved completely smooth like a woman’s. God that shouldn’t turn him on half as much as it does ‘cause Austria as girly as he can be is quite clearly slim hipped, male, long legs, that fucking stomach that ass that...
   That’s turning around while he bends at the waist shaking it in a way that ought to be fucking illegal, Austria moving fluidly as he hears the words saying something about hypnotic gravity shit fuck how long is this fucking song gonna be?! Austria rolls, Austria kicks legs up, spreads them like a gymnast, curling up, hair flinging away from his face as he comes back to his knees grinding, back arched, that throat bared, that stomach right fucking there. Prussia almost groans and swears softly under his breath as he adjusts the jeans that are way too tight. He can hear Austria, that normal bitching “knock it the hell off you pig” voice chastising him for so lewdly grabbing his crotch in polite company but Austria is about as far from polite or his normal stuck up self as he can get so as far as Prussia’s concerned he can just suck it. God, damn no wonder West was bitching about not getting any fucking work done and now half those weird little looks you give him over the dinner table make sense... Austria, hands planted on the ground, thrusts, shakes that ass, stands back up and twirls, stepping like a model to the beat. Burning hot desire, fuck lady, you sure got that one right. No wonder you can’t make it down the conference call without taking a rest as hard as he must be fucking you...
   The synthesizers pick up and Austria dances, not looking at him, but eyes to all the mirrors, which just draws Prussia’s eyes to all the damn mirrors reflecting every angle of those longs, that ass shaking and those lips parted, panting, the sweat beading on Austria’s face, running down his neck, those feet arched in those slutty shoes that he sure as hell didn’t borrow from Hungary. Prussia plants his feet hard on the floor, back against the cool mirror that’s warmed to what has to be scalding because it’s way too hot in here right now as Austria lets those long pianist fingers toy with his throat, the hem of the cropped top and it occurs to Prussia he’s never seen Austria without a shirt and wouldn’t this be a fan-fucking-tastic place to start. Take if off.... my God you’re killing me here. You’re probably killing West too or else he wouldn’t have shoved me out the door to... fuck fuck yeah, bend over, just like that, on your knees you hot little bitch, let me see that ass of yours shake. It’ll be shaking when I fuck it. It’ll be shaking when I spread those cheeks and stuff you so full of cock you-
   Prussia whimpers. Er... groans. Something more manly than whatever noise just escaped as he locks a death grip on his cock knowing he’ll never hear the end of it if he creams his jeans like some kid or America- yeah Canada couldn’t stop giggling about that one that one night they- Oh the hell with the kid why are you thinking about the kid when... when that finger just went in that mouth and wouldn’t that look so hot around your cock right now... Jesus you’re gonna kill me. You and West both like he couldn’t have the decency to warn me to jerk off before I left so I wouldn’t be standing here about to burst. Austria isn’t even touching him. Isn’t near enough to feel the heat or share his own or do anything but go up and down and toss that head like Prussia isn’t standing there about to go off like a fucking Panzerfaust. ‘Cept I ain’t no one and done hell no. West can’t keep up? You won’t even be able to stand up when I’m done with you... you... oh shit shit shit....
   Austria’s on the floor, grinding against the hard wood -hard wood god enough with that line of thought- head thrown back nearly touching his toes and who would’ve thought he’d be that... flexible. Prussia swallows and wonders if Austria would be pissed if he just shut the damn thing off or screw that- this was damn good music to fuck by. Girl gone wild, nothing, that’s a little Austrian bitch gone wild that needs a good fucking like... Like Prussia does really and watching Austria roll to his back to bridge, to some physics defying kick up on his arms legs over his head in some backward handstand something or other that shouldn’t be half as hot as it looks when he transitions to another ass in his face kneel grind thing God he can’t even think in coherent words. You win. God as my witness, Mary Virgin Mother I don’t care if that’s Catholic shit you win. Christ you win you miserable sonofabitch you can dance. You can dance and if you can fuck half as good as you can... crawl. across. the. floor...
   Prussia hasn’t even moved from the spot but he’s just as breathless as Austria as the song fades to the last “girl gone wild” and Austria stands, walking over to him with a lick of his lips, a toss of his head that’s so damn smug he... Oh who’s he kidding if Austria wants to shove him to the floor and hop on his cock like he’s nothing but a fuckstick dildo Prussia will happily lay there and let him. Hell as horny as Prussia is right now he’d let Austria screw him against the wall if he sucked him off first and let him bury his face in that ass. Austria walks closer, those heels, those slutty fucking heels echoing on the floor making him a few inches taller just completing that lovely picture. Oh yeah. That’s what I thought. He can see the large bulge looking so painful, so wonderful half sideways in those skin tight pants as Austria walks up to him, one foot, a few inches, right into his personal space and once again, no wonder Germany needed him gone to get his damn work done. Austria, breathless, opens his mouth to what what Prussia doesn’t particularly care unless it’s “fuck” and “me” which are two words he’s sure will never come out of Austria.
   Well shit, I didn’t know he had this in him so- So Prussia lets his hands dive headlong into groping that ass, into working fingers between the tight denim and the soft fat asscheeks halfways to spilling out, spilling through his fingers like heaven he can’t wait to plow into. So who knows what he has in him after all? Whatever the hell Austria was about to say transforms pretty sweetly into a soft barely breathed out bit of vulgarity that almost makes Prussia come just from hearing it. He pulls Austria flush again him counting to three before he grinds himself into a thousand years of waspish remarks about his stamina. Prussia squeezes again, Austria’s hands on his shoulders, fingers kneading, digging like he too is one more hard thrust away from liftoff. Austria shivers and says it again and this time Prussia doesn’t waste any time in lifting him up, long legs wrapping around his torso like some crazy impossible porno fantasy and even the painful dig of the heels just makes him want to lose it all the more. Prussia smirks just as Austria brings their mouths together frantically without preamble and is the first to the finish line when Prussia swipes his tongue across that mole. Don’t ever say I never did anything for ya, West. Austria’s thighs squeeze his waist like vice, locked, rocked, coming a wet hot pooling splash between them...
Prussia really is such a good brother.
- 1
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Odoru... And Then Some