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Matthew is Mine	By : flagfish Category: +G to L > Hetalia: Axis Powers Views: 9688 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Axis Powers Hetalia, nor do I make any money from writing this story.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
“Matthew,”
Francis said, long fingers running through the silken strands of his hair,
“there's something I'd like you to do for Ivan.”
There came the soft flutter of eyelashes against the skin of Francis' neck when Matthew then replied,
“What sort of thing?”
“Don't play innocent,”
Francis crooned, and his lips brushed wet past the boy's temple,
“I think you know exactly what sort of thing.”
“Maybe you should demonstrate,”
Ivan said with vast amusement,
“since you're so good at it.”
Francis' eyes darted immediately in Ivan's direction, revealing nothing to the audience as to whether or how Ivan had any real basis to make such a call.
“Maybe I should,”
came the reply, and, as Francis' eyes moved deliberately down to gaze directly at Ivan's trousers, as though mentally he were weighing the pros and cons, Ivan asked with a little smile,
“Are you a good bottom, France?”
For several moments, there was silence.
“A good bottom...”
Francis pondered aloud,
“maybe.”
He gently released Matthew from within his grasp, motioning for him to follow as he climbed down from the couch and onto the floor. Ivan helpfully parted his knees as to give them both room, and, hand encouraging in Matthew's hair, Francis beckoned him forth, smile stretched all across his lips as he moved very close to Ivan's belt.
Proficient and practiced, he reached out slowly with the tip of his tongue, gazing directly at Ivan as he proceeded effortlessly to unravel the latch,
You wanna fuck me, Ivan?
His eyes seemed to say, and, unflinching, he pulled the belt out from the buckle with ease.
Francis turned to Matthew and said only,
“Go on,”
knowing full well that, this, too, isn't new to him—
But Matthew blushed at the prospect of doing it with others around, with others watching, and he never really knew if he was good at it at all—
With trembling fingers, he very gently proceeded forth, pointed tip of his nose searching in thin air as he drew closer to Ivan, delicate, fragile, eyelashes batting as he reached with his teeth for the metal zipper at the fly.
“That's a good boy,”
Francis crooned, long fingers combing through his hair as he looked on, the tip of his tongue trailing absently at his upper lip.
Very slowly, Matthew pulled down at the zipper, breath hot between his clenched teeth, and when it was completely undone, he felt the strangest urge to reach forth with his tongue and trace the white cotton beneath it.
He blushed furiously at the thought, but Francis was staring, too, and Ivan laughed softly to himself, because he'd seen this very look on countless faces before, the predatory gaze of admiration and envy; even with his briefs still on, it was obvious that he was quite generously endowed.
“Go on, I know you want to,”
Francis whispered to Matthew, because it was painfully visible in Matthew's eyes—
But Francis wanted it just as badly, and he watched with undiverted interest as, very gently, Matthew leaned forth to take the elastic band of Ivan's briefs in his mouth.
Matthew's long hair fanned like woven silk across Ivan's lap as he tugged the elastic down, and, impatient, Francis helped him along, slender digits of his hand prying at the cloth.
The ladies on the couch strained to see, and, ever the gentleman, Francis moved aside just enough so they could appreciate the magnitude and proportion of what none of them will get to touch. Hungary nodded with quiet acknowledgement, elegantly as though she were admiring a work of fine art or an evening at the opera, while, smiling to herself, Taiwan actually murmured, wow.
Only Liechtenstein stared transfixed, blushing about ten different shades of red as her small hands pressed tightly over her mouth.
I can't believe I'm watching this, she thought, if Big Brother ever found out I watched this sort of thing, I would just die.
It would be years before she would admit to herself that she actually liked what she saw, or that this was okay.
Francis was first to lap at Ivan's member, and, with a quick intake of breath, Ivan smiled down at him, large hand brushing encouragingly through his hair.
He almost didn't want to release him from his mouth, but, mindful of Matthew, at last he let go, fluid glistening silver as it trailed from his lips. Matthew hesitated, but Francis urged him onward, lips moving wet and profane against the boy's ear as he crooned,
“That's for you, Canada.”
When finally Matthew moved forth, Francis licked slowly at his ear, softly whispering,
“Bon appétit.”
He watched with vast amusement as Matthew tentatively allowed the member into his mouth, long eyelashes flickering shut as he sucked very gently on him, carefully, and Ivan thought he was rather like Toris in this regard.
“Go on,” Francis whispered, “you've done this plenty for Alfred.”
There came a muffled sound from Matthew's throat, but before he could at all protest, Francis' hand came insistently at the back of his head, gently but firmly pressing him down, and Matthew gasped as he felt the member slide farther in.
It felt good, this he couldn't deny, not even to himself—
And he felt embarrassed, humbled and ashamed as he began to suck on him harder, of his own accord and to Francis' vast amusement. Francis kissed his temple, then his cheek, reaching forth to lap at the fluid at his chin, and, entirely content, Ivan caressed both their heads, as though routinely accustomed to this sort of attention.
“Where's your brother, anyway,”
Francis whispered,
“he could walk in at any minute and see you doing this—”
Before Matthew could reply, Francis slowly brought one finger to his entrance, sliding it in place as in warning. Matthew moaned against the hard flesh in his mouth, eyes wide at the prospect and hair swinging, and Francis moved very close to his ear now, words just barely audible as he breathed,
“You want me to lick you right here?
You little slut.”
Matthew gasped with complete embarrassment, soft hair framing his reddening face as Francis slid his finger in.
“Enjoy yourself, France,”
Ivan laughed gently as he caressed Matthew's hair,
“When I'm finished with you—”
“—I won't walk for a week?”
Francis completed his sentence with a small grin.
“You won't walk for a good month.”
“You hear that?” Francis said to Matthew with a warm chuckle, and he bit lightly on his ear before taking his place behind him.
To be continued...
- 9
- 10
- 11
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Matthew is Mine