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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
- 18
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“Don’t think about that,”
Vash said very quietly to Matthew,
“Look at me. Just at me. Do you understand?”
“I—”
Matthew whispered, voice coming breathless and hoarse,
“—I understand—”
“Kiss me—”
Matthew did, softly, feverishly,
“Hand on my belt, harder, harder—”
“Like this?”
“Yes, undo the latch, like—ahh—! G—good—”
Hungary watched, eyes quiet and composed but secretly alive with emotion and memories unfurled—
“I have a little gift for you,”
Many years ago, standing at the entrance to their bedroom, she faced Roderich from across the way.
Her hand interwoven in Vash’s.
Already in his pajamas, Roderich looked up, cheeks turning crimson pink when his eyes met the other boy’s. Elizabeta smiled knowingly.
“I think this is something you’ve wanted for a long time,” she grinned, confident in herself while each of them tried his best to ignore and avoid the other.
She pulled Vash after her as she paced closer to the bed, finally climbing on at Roderich’s side.
Vash was scantily clad, embarrassed, blushing, but not really opposed. Elizabeta took his chin in her hand, smiling as she turned his face to hers and kissed him very slowly. “He is very cute, isn’t he,” she laughed, enjoying this as much as her husband did.
“Go on,” she prompted the boy in her arms, “kiss him, too.”
Vash gazed at Roderich in silence, tensely wound but curious, no less, and Hungary could see in his eyes that he wanted this, it was almost painfully clear.
He slowly disentangled himself from within her grasp, advancing toward Roderich, tentative, silent.
Very gently, Roderich smiled.
“Hey,”
he said very softly to Vash. He reached for the other boy’s hand, eyes twinkling as their fingers wove together.
Switzerland’s voice came very softly then.
“Hey,”
he said back.
Elizabeta watched with pure enjoyment as they leaned into each other, Roderich grinning, Vash responding in kind. They were both embarrassed, awkward, but undoubtedly aroused, and it was almost purely to their benefit that she was there to tell them what to do.
Vash knew now that she watched, he knew all three of them did, Liechtenstein, too, make it look like you don’t want this, make it look like it’s all Ivan and Francis’ idea—
But Elizabeta must have known he was thinking of Roderich all along.
I don’t really like Austria, he tried to tell himself, what’s wrong with me…?
He guided Matthew through the foreplay, through getting him properly undressed, he guided him through perverse, terrible things, violent and hard and obscene, profane, shameless and deliberate and loud, is this what you meant, is this what you wanted, will that have you shut your mouth about Roderich and me—
Matthew, himself, was astounded by his own capacity to carry this sort of thing out, he blushed and trembled and pleaded silently in the other boy’s hands, internally resistant until there came at last the moment of penetration and, for the first time in his life, he felt the indescribable sensation of being inside someone else—
Of being on top—
His cry rang with astonishment, of unmistakable innocence and surprise, reverberating clear throughout the chamber and the remainder of the hall, blue eyes shimmering liquid, tremulous and blank—
He couldn’t stop himself after that.
He lost any and all sense of reason and control and merely had at the other boy as though dying, breathless, and gasping for air, infatuated, spellbound—
Even Francis blushed to himself as he wondered how long Matthew had it in him, how much like himself he may really have been, but the very thought of letting him top had seemed little more to him than just plain absurd.
Liechtenstein watched in silence as, beneath Matthew’s long, slender abdomen there rose Vash’s arms, fingers delicate and strong, clawing, scratching at Matthew’s back, not in resistance but in what seemed suspiciously like desire, his long hair swinging rhythmically in time—
Big brother, she thought, you should never, never know how beautiful I think you are—
Big brother, Matthew thought, I never knew this is what it’s like.
Upstairs, Kiku had lain on Alfred’s bed for a good hour, absorbed deep in thought, wary not to fall asleep. He couldn’t; he was far too nervous, far too much preoccupied; he had meant to get up and leave quietly at last when there came the sound of footsteps from just outside the bedroom door.
In came Alfred and Arthur, partly kissing, partly arguing, partly pushing and pressing each other against the wall and then the door and the furniture on their way inside, you’d think they hated each other, you’d think they were ready to kill and ruin and destroy one another the way they talked, the horrible things they said, except that it was clearly obsession, it was clearly affection and, unmistakably, it clearly was love—
“I ought to kill you,”
Arthur said, voice coming breathless and hoarse as he slammed Alfred up against the dresser,
“I’ll kill you and no one will ever find the body—”
“Yeah, I’d like to see you try,”
Alfred’s reply came then, challenging, partly muffled as he kissed Arthur in turn, and Kiku pressed his hands to his mouth lest they noticed, lest they heard him breathe. What do I do. What do I do?
He stared for a long time until he was sure they were far too involved with one another, with their impassioned argument to notice, and then climbed very carefully down from the bed, slowly, limb after limb, lowering himself to the floor with intention to quietly crawl out after they’ve come farther inside—
But before he could do so, there came Alfred’s hand against the bedroom door, slamming it with a little too much force, and soon the room was pitch black, pitch dark but for the glowing red digits of the radio alarm clock.
To be continued…
- 18
- 19
- 20
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Matthew is Mine