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On the Other Side of the Pillow	By : mykonosparadise Category: +G to L > Hetalia: Axis Powers Views: 4761 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia: Axis Powers nor any characters from the series. I don't make money on the fiction.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
A/N: Gosh, I know I've exhausted you with Ludwig's inner chaos, but all this time I really wanted you to feel his despair. Please enjoy...

- Chapter 7 -

Lust.

Lust, vulgar and raw, was gaining possession of him. It buried its claws into his weak body, slowly ripping him apart in a most frightful manner.

Of all the variety of miseries that had to this day befallen Ludwig, this one was the cruelest. Out of all sorrows, a fresh one arose—torture went from bad to worse.

There was no recuperative hope anymore. His heart was forlorn, but his body was so hungry, starving for love and touch. Lust has won him over. He let his body rule his head. He couldn't leave it off now, it was his only comfort.

Almost a month has glided away since he has last loved Gilbert's body, seven miserable days have went by since Roderich's words became a persistent burden in his life. Seven days of fitful sleep, of lacking appetite, of inner turmoil. Waiting brought only more despair, not a glimpse of hope. Ironically, the silent suffering, separation and distance from Gilbert only showed him how much the nightly visits meant to him. His resistance was gradually seeping away.

He did make a strong attempt to control himself, but he lost a heroic fight against the violent passion that had seized him.

The tension of so many days has found vent at last. Ludwig's attempts to contain his desire for Prussia now seemed weak at best. His self-esteem has sunk so low. He rued the day he has started this.

The universe was still hostile; it toyed with him in the form of lust, raw lust that amounted to agony. He began to realize that this might be his only hope.

Ludwig threaded through the room like a ghost, a passion's slave, servile to carnal desire.

Every second prolonged his misery. Misery that only loneliness could devise.

The chance of Gilbert waking up wasn't faint, and this thwarted his plans. He was at a disadvantage. The last few drops of the sedative he used could easily wear off at any time. It was a blow to his confidence. He knew he would have to tread carefully, unless he wanted to make this a preliminary to the greatest mistake he has made.

He worked hard to subdue his impatience, but he was tossed around by waves of lust—he was weak, so weak under the passion that drove him desperate; he was teetering on the brink of a break down.

The young nation crawled over the bed, his loose sleepwear clung now to his shoulder-blades, now to his chest, according to how he bent or leaned. The feel of cotton against his skin irritated him; he tugged it up and let it pool in his palms before pulling the cloth off in a single motion. He tossed the nightgown away instead of folding it, keeping only the jar of lubricant to himself.

When he lay a kiss right on Gilbert's lips, he couldn't tell if the kiss pleased him or not. He let his tongue flick over his lips, parting them, but Gilbert would never respond—he pulled himself off. Too eager to think now, he unbuttoned the shirt and fastened his lips on Gilbert's pale-pink nipple, sucking it erect. His free hand wandered to the other one where he spread his palm over the taut pectoral, feeling the little nub become erect already. He gave a pinch, then wandered far south, still sucking on the nipple in his mouth like a newborn, grinding his growing erection into the sheets below.

Already swollen lips then followed the path that his hand had ventured, and he hastened to unbuckle his brother's breeches with an impatient movement of his fingers.

His heart was out of control.

An insignificant amount of the lube he used to spread on his own member, eliciting a low moan as ripples of pleasure washed over him. Glazed blue eyes followed the familiar contours of Gilbert's torso while he slicked his hard shaft, stroking himself slowly. He was more aroused and needy than he ever recalled.

The chest he was admiring heaved in a sigh, giving him a startle.

Ludwig's fears started to get the best of him for a moment. Some sane traces in his mind knew that these actions might awaken Gilbert, and the very idea made him sick to his stomach.

His courage arose from his great lust. Eroding his fear for need, he began to stroke himself again.

Come what may.

He was helpless against the might of his desire. The roaring fire of his lust allowed him to carry on with the work unhindered. He kissed his way down Gilbert's abdomen and knelt astride over his thighs, straddling him. After he bent face downward and supported his torso with his forearms, he found himself on the same level with Gilbert's cock, flaccid and waiting for him, for his lick and touch.

He carried out his task with dispatch. Hand around his base, caressed by the pale, feathery curls, pumping in earnest.

Ludwig felt that he was rushing the job, but there was no time for idle pleasures.

He ran his tongue along the underside of his head, but he was amazed and baffled to find that Gilbert's cock sprung alive with merely few touches.

Ludwig applied a lavish amount of lube, coating his entire member with the slippery substance. He then settled his weight on one elbow and sought balance, holding Gilbert's cock clasped in one hand, and with the other he reached behind him. His erection gave a lively twitch when he slipped a finger between his cheeks to spread them, prodding around to smear the cool lubricant. He licked his lips like a starving hound, slick fingers pushing against his hole and pushing through the tight ring of muscles. Another digit joined and he twisted and turned them, scissoring them deep inside, but he only barely managed to brush his prostrate, whimpering. He tried to peek up at Gilbert's face, but with the best will in the world he wasn't able to supervise him all the time. His face constricted, he lifted his body up a bit to drive his probing fingers deeper inside, working himself into a state of utter excitement.

Unwilling to wait any longer, he sat up, his buttocks resting just over the sleeping nation's groin. He lifted himself on his knees and held Gilbert steady—in a smooth but slow motion he seated himself down, tensing with complete beatitude and bliss. When the supple flesh of his bottom pressed against Gilbert's crotch firmly, he seized his brother's unresponsive hand and plunged it down between his legs. He laced their fingers and curled Gilbert's around his tight balls, maneuvering him like a marionette.

The pleasant assault of pleasure set his nerves ablaze.

He spread his legs wide apart and let go of his hand, just sitting atop with Gilbert sheathed deep inside him. As he looked down his own hard shaft was standing upright, creamy pearls of pre-come trickled down his fury-red head, teasing him.

Head up, hips down, consumed by desire, he lifted and let himself sink onto the hard cock anew, satisfied. So satisfied. It felt like it had always belonged there, impaled firmly inside him, stretching him, stretching his pleasure to a ravenous intensity.

He started off a brisk pace, lively and vigorous, in a tight race with the time.

His body glided with expertise, a warm glow of satisfaction overwhelmed him while he worked adamantly, his mind an incoherent mess of blurred images and bliss. He became ferocious with dipping and lifting, covered in a sheen of sweat.

Quickened breaths climbed in pitch.

A familiar tightening in the loins sent a warning to Ludwig just before an orgasm rocked through him, slow and gentle, leaving him unsatisfied. His body still craved for more.

He spread his thighs lewdly, but his muscles couldn't cope with the strain. After the post-orgasmic glow dwindled he gave in, sprawling himself over Gilbert's body with the greatest care. His body refused to listen for one whole minute and he lay there, clenching and unclenching around Gilbert's erection. With some power gathered, he shifted to push his hips up and ride his brother again. The lying position rewarded him with shallow penetration, but more friction. He set his pelvis in a steady motion, thrusting down and up the rock-hard shaft with all his might, again, and again, and again, with no regards to his protesting muscles.

His own erection was rubbing against his brother's taut abdomen steadily, sweaty skin smacked against Gilbert's, sending him into a fitful shudder that elicited a breathy whimper from his throat.

He sensed the chest below him heave again. Fear started to torment him in the midst of his delight.

Ludwig rose and changed the angle, a yet another spasm seized him when the meaty head of Gilbert's cock pressed his swelled prostrate dead-on.

He quickened the pace, wiping his forehead where his hair clung to it.

Bounce after bounce, a never-ending cycle of carnal ecstasy. Tides, waves, a whole sea of pleasure. His mouth twisted in a silent moan while his hips worked, his body was floating, he was so close… so close…

For a moment, Gilbert felt how his chest constricted. He couldn't exactly make out what was happening. There was a weight pressing down his groin, a fast lift, weight again, pushing up and down relentlessly.

He was enveloped by heat, such delightful and delicious heat, a blissful pressure on his cock. His body was burning entirely, and then freezing.

Scarlet eyes opened, but, blinded with pleasure for an instant, he couldn't clear his vision.

Gilbert discerned familiar features through the haze after a few confusing moments.

He almost had to remind his heart to beat again. Shock sealed his lips.

Staring with rapt attention at Ludwig's naked glory, he drank in the sight, his smiting beauty. His head thrown back in orgasmic bliss, milky-white neck exposed, pale features contorted in the most exquisite pleasure while a thick moan rose deep from his throat. His pelvis was caught in a gyrating dance with his cock, inner walls clinging to it while his body devoured each aftershock coursing through his nerves.

The warm tickle of Ludwig's sticky essence pooling on his abdomen and navel tore him from the paralyzing daze he was in—he caught hold of his brother and held his wrist rigid.

A sharp gasp—all movements ceased.

Large, frightful eyes looked down into his in mortification.

Gilbert found it impossible to express the dread and terror he saw on Ludwig's face. Horror put the blond into a cold sweat.

The silence was terrifying.

Ludwig never realized how painful heartbeats could be.

Stiff, still caught in an expression of utter dismay, Ludwig's features grew ghastly, deadly pale. He couldn't hear a thing, nor see anything.

For a moment Gilbert feared that Ludwig might experience a heart-attack any second.

"Ludwig?" He asked with a small quaver.

Ludwig was far from responding.

His lips tried to shape some words, but nothing came out. Paleness gave place to a glow of shame.

The dread day has arrived.

It would be ridiculous to cover himself now. He was the one riding Gilbert.

Dead-still, he awaited the full lash of his brother's tongue. Whatever Gilbert fancied to do with him, his punishment would be deserved.

Gilbert took Ludwig's other unresponsive hand and pulled him down.

Ludwig repressed a sob, but his breath hitched, betraying him, tears choked him. In humiliation, words expressive of the utmost shame started spilling from his lips.

"I feel so utterly ashamed, and filthy, and—and…" Words died away on his tongue.

Gilbert dismissed his words of contrition entirely, keeping the blond's head wedged between his neck and shoulder until Ludwig's dry sobs were reduced to catching gasps at intervals.

"Don't forsake me, brother." Ludwig forced himself to say, "Forgive me, I have sinned against you—what's done cannot be undone." Trembling in shame, he faltered an apology. He tried to dry his eyes and his running nose, but Gilbert held him against his shoulder, still.

He broke away from his hold and rose on his hands with the most rueful look on his face. This was no occasion for a bitter reproach.

"Despise me if you wish, but don't judge me—"

"Despise you? Never."

Ludwig had expected an outburst of anger, a strike, a blow, everything but this. Amazed at his reply, he felt a gush of rapture sweep through his very being, a wild hope that Gilbert could be interested in him. He couldn't trace signs of revolt or revulsion on his face.

"Why have you not told me?" The Prussian wondered, voice thick with emotion.

"What could have I told you? That I want you? That I worship your body in this abominable manner? That I love you more than a brother?"

He opened his soul to say what he had never had the opportunity to express, sparing himself nothing. This he spoke so earnestly that Gilbert's voice almost broke when he spoke.

"How long?"

"Ten months."

"Oh God…" Gilbert shook his head while he frantically tried to comprehend and grasp the full implications of his words. "Why didn't you tell me…?"

"How could have I known of your feelings?" Ludwig asked in the most dejected and dispirited voice. "I cannot mend it through regret. I beg for your forgiveness."

"What should I forgive you?" Gilbert wondered, incredulous. Lord, how long has he wanted Ludwig. He should be the one begging forgiveness.

"My cowardice, brother. Don't looks at me so, I am not ashamed of my tears."

"I can never forgive you the pain you have caused yourself. I cannot forgive you that you haven't told me earlier." Gilbert didn't know what to do with his hands, his arms. He left them where they fell, at his sides limply, eyes on Ludwig who covered his face with palms. "I should have done so myself. The fault is mine as it's yours."

Ludwig dried his eyes and left them close, hid them with his hands. Words continued to swell in his chest. Power and warmth. And happiness. It felt too good to be real.

"Are you not mad at me for lying?" He whispered, but not quite meeting his eyes.

"When I see you in distress I forget myself."

Ludwig wanted to tell him that these past months have been an agony. Too many questions inside him were fighting to come out, but neither would become a winner.

Gilbert spared him the trouble by putting his hand on the base of his neck to pull him in and kissed his quivering lips. Ludwig responded with spirit. The Prussian ended it all to early, to speak.

"Can you imagine for how long I have yearned to do this?" Gilbert whispered against his lips, chest heaving, "Can you imagine how much I longed for you and desired you?"

'My own desire was as strong.' Ludwig wanted to whisper back. Words failed him again. His mind was plunged into joyous cries of liberty, his heart paralyzed with relief and happiness.

Gilbert pressed his lips against him again. One kiss would never be enough. He devoured him with kisses. Flush against each other, Gilbert's tongue tangled with his between their entwined mouths for the first time, and Ludwig's heart gave a cheerful leap—his abdomen tightened with desire, there was no denying that he was aroused again. His fingers dug into his brother's shoulders, he gave a needy moan after Gilbert wound him tight, tighter, supple lips meshed with his. The lust was crushing. A rush of hormones and Ludwig couldn't fight anymore; he let Gilbert's tongue move past his lips into his mouth, claiming him fiercely. He left him panting when they broke apart.

The blond made a halt for a moment—this was Gilbert. His Gilbert. And he was allowed to touch him.

They faced each other, hot, hearts thumping.

Ludwig was now intensively aware of his body, of their bodies, and he remembered absurdly that Gilbert was still inside him. The Prussian passed down his spine, and in an instant his calloused hands were on the supple mounds of his buttocks, squeezing in earnest. Ludwig let himself relax into the touch, gasping hot against his collarbone. Gilbert's erection was swollen and hard inside him. He was reeling with a renewal of lust.

"Ludwig." His voice grew husky and heavy. The words stung Ludwig into action.

"Ja…" He breathed, latched onto the same idea as his brother. In another flare of lust, he sunk his teeth in Gilbert's neck on instinct, getting a satisfied groan in reward. Gilbert threaded his fingers in his hair and with slight pressure tilted his head up at a more convenient angle, kissing him. He tried to fend off the perverse fantasy of Ludwig riding him, but it only whetted his sexual appetite. Eager, he pried his fingers away from Ludwig's hair to his hips and ventured a suggestive thrust up, heart thudding madly in his chest.

His action sent sparks of pleasure racing up Ludwig's nerves, a warm flush radiated through his skin. Gilbert's intention was in sympathy with his wishes, but not the method.

"Not like this." Ludwig pleaded. He longed for so long to try something different. Gilbert took the hint.

Gilbert had barely slipped out of him when he felt his stern hands grab hold of his legs to twist him over onto the back in one move. Ludwig toppled to the side with Gilbert looming over him, a sly grin on his handsome features. He almost shuddered in anticipation.

An astonishing sight then arrested Ludwig's attention.

He was stunned to learn that Gilbert's shaft has grown bigger—bigger than he had ever gotten him in his sleep. The Prussian enveloped his massive erection in a steady grip, as if to show what was about to hammer him. Ludwig made a quiet little noise in the back of his throat, dying to get his hands around it and guide him inside.

What Ludwig couldn't manage in his great excitement Gilbert did, slowly so that he wouldn't hurt him, but Ludwig was full of verve and he was able to easily slide inside his loosening orifice.

Ludwig gave a gasp, a moan, and other sultry noises he wasn't aware of, pushing himself back against Gilbert to feel the angle of penetration he had never felt before. His lips dropped open, broken begs spilling from his mouth, and Gilbert obeyed and followed his lead—he settled his weight on Ludwig, angled his body, thrust a little deeper, a little harder, a little faster; there were black spots in his vision again. He held Ludwig's hands down against the mattress, thrusting so slow and deep that it had Ludwig arching up into him to hasten his rhythm.

He tried to make him pick up the pace, but to no avail. Gilbert was much stronger than he was.

It seemed like Gilbert was trying to weigh up what he had missed all these months while he looked down to admire the view of his cock glistening from lubricant and plunging to the hilt inside his brother. He was enchanted.

Ludwig let out a wanton moan when his begging shaft was enveloped in a strong grip of Gilbert's large hand; his hand was now free, but his efforts were still hamstrung by Gilbert's weight which restricted his movements. His brother has caged him to the mattress and he couldn't repress a groan at another failed attempt to buck up. With his free hand he reached for Gilbert to pull him in and seal their lips, their tongues mating desperately.

The Prussian gave a vehement thrust at last.

He started a smart pace, plowing Ludwig from every position and every possible angle. A deep feeling of lust trickled down Ludwig's spine, he offered no resistance and Gilbert shot straight in and out. To his misfortune he couldn't get the depth Ludwig was hoping for because his thighs kept blocking Gilbert's hips. He wrapped his legs around his brother who continued to mount him from above from his kneeling position. With some difficulty, Ludwig locked his heels over Gilbert's back and drove him deep into his body, to the hilt and deeper.

Gilbert's untiring thrusts didn't desist. He was taken by his brother in the wildest fashion; his great strength seemed to sit stronger upon him than ever before.

The angle was fantastic, maddening. Ludwig struggled for every breath.

Gilbert went harder, faster, with each ferocious thrust he was swathed in the welcoming heat of his brother's body, his face twisted in the most incredible expression of bliss Ludwig has ever seen. He could have watched him forever, if it wasn't for his body wanting release and stars that exploded in front of his eyes when Gilbert dipped to trace the shell of his ear with his warm tongue.

"Ludwig—" Gilbert croaked out helplessly as he reached his apogee, shaken by a delirious orgasm. Just hearing his name shoved Ludwig to the brink of a climax as well. Two bodies were grinding on each other in frenzy. Gilbert filled him with his essence while he rode the last aftershocks out, a truly satisfied look on his face.

Ludwig's heart felt overly full.

Lying boneless with Gilbert at his side, basking in another post-orgasmic glow, attentive to the gentle aftershocks that still coursed through his body, thinking.

Fortune has deceived him. It felt like falling off a wild rearing horse which landed on its hoofs seconds before you were to tumble into an abyss.

Gilbert shifted, on his side facing him, and lifted his brother's hand from the mattress to lay his lips upon it. Ludwig felt redeemed by just this simple kiss; it left absolute mental liberty. He was neither a rapist nor was his love unrequited.

Tears of immense relief, of happiness and catharsis stung his eyes.

"Tell me your story," Gilbert mumbled into the pillow. "Tell me everything."

Ludwig was plied with questions and poured his heart out to his brother. Only after his confession was finished and Gilbert's questions exhausted did he look at him. The two of them stared at each other for a long while before Gilbert captured his lips in a peck and released them with a soft smacking noise. Ludwig wanted this kiss every morning, every night, every hour.

"It's no one's fault." Gilbert wanted to say, but all he managed was a whisper.

Ludwig would like to find someone to blame for all his past misery.

- The End -
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On the Other Side of the Pillow