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Whisper of Stars	By : tamasama Category: +G to L > Hetalia: Axis Powers Views: 6255 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia: Axis Powers or any of the characters. I make no money from the writing or distrobution of this story. This is a work of fiction, any resemblance to the lives of any person, living or dead, is purely conincedental.

Chapter List
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CHAPTER FIVE
America sat on the floor glassy eyed, staring at the wall opposite himself. How long had he been here? A couple of days? Months? Probably not years, his boss would be suspicious by then. Altogether, he just was not sure. The only thing he knew was the faintly clawing reminder in his stomach telling him that he had only been allowed to eat once a day, something small coupled with a glass of water. It just seemed to appear magically, in his sleep. No food that night and then “poof”! Tray of food in the morning. He had not seen a person other than Russia in such a long time. Even Russia came and went now, only staying long enough to escort him to the bathroom (which he was often too dehydrated or constipated to use) and hit him with another syringe of that awful drug.
At the thought of the heroin his eyes cleared a little, becoming brighter as his mouth began to water. The feeling was still like perfection, stripping away all of his cares. There was no loneliness, no fear, and best of all: no pain. Although it had been days since Russia had last come and defiled his mouth with his disgusting piss and spunk, America could still feel the ache of his body between highs. Slowly the thought of his predicament sunk in, pushed on by the lack of dope in his system. The hunger, the pain, the homesickness, the repulsion, the loneliness, and most of all the biting need for that damn drug!
Gritting his teeth, America flitted his blue eyes from left to right through narrowed lids, grinding his teeth in frustration. If that fucker was going to keep him trapped here, he damn well owes him the damn drugs! He was the one to give it to him in the first place, where was he when America needed a hit so badly? Pulling his knees closer to his chest and giving them a small squeeze, he tapped his foot, growing impatient. He missed Tony, he missed the whale, he even missed that old geezer England, but most of all he missed that damn drug, which circled around his mind like and angry gnat.
The normal click of the lock made him look toward the door with more anticipation than he would have liked to admit to, and when Russia walked in he was almost ecstatic. Pushing his weakened body up until he was sitting on his knees, he watched his captor with wide, anticipating eyes, gaze shooting over him and wondering where the tell-tale syringe could be found.
“Good morning, Alfred,” Russia said, smiling, “you are well?” He was wearing his strange fashion that day, a baggy beige shirt tied with a black sash and deep green pants tucked in to his black boots. America thought it looked rather silly, but he didn’t dare voice his opinion.
“Come with me.” Strolling toward the wide-eyed man, the Russian pulled him up by his arm and lead him from the room, down the usual hallways, twists, and turns that lead to the bathroom. Once there, he closed the door and locked it with the large brass key he always seemed to carry. Moving to lean up against the sink, he motioned towards the toilet. “Restroom, da?”
Shaking his head “no”, America ran his fingers through his greasy hair and stared at the floor, chills of the knowledge that the injection was coming soon flitting through his body.
“Okay, you want shot?” The American’s eyes shot up to stare into his own as the younger man nodded excitedly. “What will you do for it?”
Pulling the syringe out, he saw the US’s eyes take on a look of disappointment to see that it was empty. “No worries, da? Lithuania was busy so he could not prepare. I know the ways.” After the syringe he produced a spoon, a small bag of brown powder, a lighter, and a small cotton swab.
“What will you do, Alfred?” The American licked his lips, eyes never leaving the array of items near the sink. After a moment and an awkward wiggle, he turned his bloodshot blue eyes to look directly into Russia’s own violet ones.
“Anything.”
“Show me.”
Fidgeting awkwardly with his fingers, America slowly approached the taller man by a few steps. “Wh- what do you want?”
“Remove your clothes.”
Nodding, America began to slowly strip with trembling fingers. First he unbuttoned his wrinkled white shirt, still stained with the brown of old blood. With a quiet rustle they landed on the floor, and he began working his black slacks, fumbling a few times with the buttons before he managed to pull them off and step out of them. Lastly was the silly red white and blue boxers, which he seemed to ponder over. After a moment of what seemed to be deep contemplation, he finally slipped out of them, exposing his most sensitive parts to the open air and interested view of the older man he was entertaining. Finally he began to remove his glasses before Russia held up his hand, bidding him to stop.
“I like the… What is word? Ochki*.”
“Glasses?”
“Yes. Kneel down and spread your legs.” America did as he was told, only to be confused and slightly offended at the Russkii’s scowl. “I want to see you cum, Alfred.”
His face flushing bright pink, the younger nation turned his eyes away from Russia as his hand slowly crept toward his flaccid penis. After taking a few steeling breathes he wrapped it in his fist and slowly began to stroke. As he did this Russia picked up the bag of heroin and the spoon, spilling a small amount into it. A small amount of water into the spoon later, he lit the lighter and began circling it under the metal, heating the drug. Seemingly more interested in cooking the heroin than he was in the embarrassed man jacking off before him, he only cast America a bored glance every little while.
Dropping the cotton into the liquid and waiting for it to absorb, he finally turned most of his attention to the somewhat irritated country sitting on the floor. Crossing his legs in a rather haughty manner, he raised an inquisitive eyebrow at America’s scowl. “Why are you angry, Alfred?”
Snapping his head away, America scowled as he continued to stroke his semi-hard dick. “You make me do this stupid stuff then you don’t even freaking’ watch. Why not just give me the stuff and leave me alone?”
Leaning forward with his legs still crossed, Russia sneered, “So you like when I watch you, American?” Receiving a loud “huff” as a response, the Russian laughed as he pushed the needle of the syringe into the full cotton ball and sucked the drug up and out of it. “Is this what you want?” He asked, waving the needle back and forth, smiling when he noticed America’s head follow it back and forth, like a dog who hungered for a delicious cut of meat.
“Cum for me, and I will give it to you.”
Seeing the drug brought back all sorts of emotions in the naked American, from the pain of his stolen virginity to the beautiful, hidden garden of happiness it offered. All at once his blood flowed so strongly that his cock stiffened as thoughts of pleasure and pain filled his mind. Squeezing his erection he began to pump faster, knowing that beyond the pleasure an orgasm would give him, he would earn the beautiful gift that Russia held in his no longer bandaged hand.
Watching America panting as he stroked himself with all of the gusto of a teenager, Russia was strikingly unaroused. Becoming bored, he stood and walked over to the man. Sliding the needle gently over his sweat-glistened flesh, he listened uninterested to the little whimpers of pleasure that America was exuding. He slid the sharp needle down the man’s neck, over his chest and stopped long enough to lightly poke the pink erect nipple there. He then continued his trek, sliding the metal over America’s now chub-less tummy, dipping it lightly into the bellybutton before continuing on to the pubic region. Tickling over straight blond hairs, working to avoid being jabbed in by the young man’s rapidly pumping fist, he guided the needle to the base of America’s dick.
“Are you coming soon?”
“Y-yeah.”
Without another word Russia pushed the needle deep into one of America’s engorged penile veins and injected, and at that moment cum shot out from the tip, one, two, three spurts puddeling onto the linoleum floor. Falling back with shaky yet gulping breathes, the American rode the feel of his orgasm as his hand still lazily worked his lightly bleeding dick, the rush of heroin driving him on.
Himself completely flaccid, only a tiny twitch brought on by the needle, Russia grabbed the inert man by the hair and dragged him over to the tub. Tossing him over the edge, his face just under the faucet, Russia grinned.
“Now it is my turn, Alfred.” With a quick twist of the wrist he turned on the water, which shot out icy cold and with the first sounds of shocked sputtering he found himself rock-hard. After shoving the struggling man back under the water, he reached into his pocket and extracted a small bottle of lube. With a quick pop and squirt, and had himself wet and ready to slide into America’s ass. Lifting the struggling man’s rear slightly with one hand and keeping his face under the bitter water with the other, Russia aimed, then slammed himself into the tight hole without care.
What would have been a scream came out more like a drowning gurgle as America fought the torrent of gushing water flowing out over his mouth and nose. Licking his lips at the sight of the struggling man, Russia began to slam himself into his helpless and unprepared ass, and only now did the picture of him degrading himself on the bathroom floor for a hit of smack work to push the Russian on. Letting go of America’s chest for a moment to pull his legs up and over his shoulders, Russia pushed down on the drowning man’s chest once again and held him under while he watched his thick cock slide in and out of the tight, strained, pink anus.
Reaching back and grabbing the spent needle, he slid it through America’s left nipple and yanked up, groaning as the man hissed in pain and effectively swallowed a mouthful of water. Seeing America’s face distorted by the flow of water, knowing his drugged state, and watching his massive cock rape the small entrance was all he needed. So near orgasm, Russia yanked up on the needle hard enough to pull the nipple up into a pointed, tented shape, he felt the body beneath him go slack from oxygen deprivation,. He scrunched his eyes closed and came harder than he had in ages, with each spurt rocking his body and causing shudders of pleasure to rocket up and down his spine.
Sliding out of the smaller man, Russia watched in interest as his cum dribbled out of the abused hole while he turned the faucet off. Bringing his ear to America’s chest, he noticed that the man was no longer breathing. Putting his hands together over America’s chest, he began to push down, one, two, three, all the way to twenty before he tilted America’s head up, pinched his nose, and blew air down into his lungs. After about a minute of this America coughed, hacking up a mouthful of water and sputtering, eyes rolling about in a daze.
Lifting him up in his arms, Russia carried the wet and naked man back to his room, which had been cleaned in their absence. Laying him down softly, Russia silently disrobed and lay down next to him, running his fingers through the beautiful blond hair. When he was finally sure that America’s breathing sounded healthy, he pulled him into a gentle hug and cradled him until they were both fast asleep.

*Glasses.

A/N: Thank you, Natalia, for reviewing this. I know the amount of hits and ratings I get means a lot, but to have some feedback makes me want to work on this even harder! *Rolls up sleeves* I’m going to try my best to make this the best damn pain-porn you can find!
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Whisper of Stars