Kimono wearing for Dummies | By : Cepheus Category: +G to L > Hetalia: Axis Powers Views: 3231 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, nor am I making any money out of writing FANfics of it. Himaruya Hidekaz-sama is the rightfully owner |
Cepheus: Japan/Italy smut. With kimono.
how hard was it to write Ja/Ita
smex? I’m a HUGE fan of Uke!Italy,
but my head!canon Japan has a hard time being seme. And my head!canon Italy and
Japan are more on the fluff, cute side. BUT there is smex. There’s a bit of fighting for
the upper hand, a lot of fumbling, and most of all, cuteness XD OTL
……………………………………
“Japa~n! Look!
Look!”
Japan was writing on some documents on his
table when he was interrupted by a familiar call, and sighed, setting down his
pen and stretching his back, popping a few joints as he straightened up.
It looked like Italy had decided once again to
pop around uninvited, but that wasn’t a surprise anymore, and Japan had long
since learned not to be shocked by that –it was apparently something entirely
Feliciano to do.
As long as he didn’t jump on him, of course.
It was bad enough Italy had refused to take responsibility for hugging him before,
and…
Then, Italy appeared in front of him, cheeks
flushed by his running, and Japan felt a strong blush force its way to his
cheeks, momentarily halting all his thought–processes.
“Na… nande!” he yelled out, losing his composure as he looked at
Italy, at the same time wanting to not
look but failing miserably.
Italy was wearing… a kimono.
Surely enough, he was. The bad part of it was
that he was wearing it wrong. Terribly, terribly wrong. The obi was placed too
high on the waist, and (‘god forbid’
Japan thought with a fierce return of his blush) tied on the front.
More so, somehow, Italy had managed to fold it
in a way that left all his legs uncovered and exposed and all that white skin,
so unashamedly open to gaze at was… was…
“Vulgar!” Japan yelled again, covering his
face with both of his hands and finally turning around, willing his blush away
and hoping no blood was dripping from his nose.
He’d seen Italy naked before –that Italian
loved to run around in the nude, after all, and it didn’t affect him (much),
but this was different. Folded between layers of his own traditional clothing,
wrongly worn, and without intentions to impress, Italy looked different.
Almost… enticing.
The mere thought sent Japan’s mind to hell and
back.
“Japa~n, look what I
bought! It was quite expensive but
the vendor was this really cute girl and I flirted with her, and she gave me a
bit of a discount~” Italy bounced a bit, shifting his weight and moving the
kimono a bit higher on his tights. “Ve~, but I wonder
why it looks different on me~”
Having counted till twenty, and feelings his
cheeks move from borderline red to a normal flush, Japan found his willpower
back and turned around, twitching. His previous thoughts returned full force,
but he reigned control over them.
It was a hard feat, considering he noticed for
the first time that Italy was wearing a female
kimono.
“Italy…” he coughed, clearing his throat.
“This is… you’re…”
Italy was looking at him with such expectance
that Japan’s words died on his lips. “Ve~?”
“… Italy, you put the kimono wrong” he
murmured.
Feliciano’s face quickly fell, and Kiku waved
his arms around, feeling suddenly embarrassed and guilty. “I–I’ll help you put
it on correctly!”
When Italy’s smile blinded him, at least Japan
didn’t feel too cheated by life. Especially since when he tucked the obi away,
the whole kimono just flew apart, exposing naked skin underneath.
“T–the fundoshi!” he
squealed, looking away. “Where’s the fundoshi and the
juban!”
“The what?” Italy blinked. “Oh, you mean that
strange underwear that felt like a tanga~? I didn’t
like it so I didn’t put it on~… and the other thing… the cotton skirt? I don’t
wear skirts~”
Japan really wanted to burn down to a crisp,
but managed to ignore the sudden desire and busied himself with the folds; it
would be pointless to make Italy get a pair of cotton skirt and top and then
also get his tabi socks, and the fundoshi,
because obviously he would protest.
So, Japan swallowed hard and worked with what
he had.
As Kiku carefully unfolded the hems of the
kimono, marvelling of the good quality of the cloth, Italy stood still, not
even squirming, and Japan started to calm down, thankful for the silence
enveloping them.
It was a bit strange to see how, despite his
taller built and the vaguely more muscular body of the Italian, that didn’t
seem fit for a female kimono, the expensive tissue wrapped the creamy skin like
it was born to.
Wonders of European Nations, apparently.
“You have to fold it correctly, not letting
your skin be seen” Japan sighed, feeling the need to explain where Italy had
wronged. “You hold the fuki
this way, and in the meanwhile, whilst shifting the doura like this…” he moved to the
side, expertly folding one side, flicking his wrist and stepping backwards
“this part is folded last…”
Right side folded first around the body, and
left side covering it… Italy had been wearing it the opposite way, but Kiku
didn’t want to tell him that only dead corpses were dressed that way.
Italy watched in amazement, unknown words
going all over his head, as Japan circled him over and over, correcting details
and pulling cautiously on the cloth. It suddenly felt less tense, falling over
his naked body like a caress, instead of hanging heavily over his shoulders.
Humming in appreciation, Italy lifted his arms
up, admiring the beautiful material. Yes, it had been expensive, but it did
look good.
“You tie the obi on the back, not on the
front” Kiku was murmuring, finally completing the task. “Here, that’s the
correct way of wearing a femal… a kimono” he
corrected himself.
He doubted Italy would care, anyway, but it
was to save himself some embarrassment.
“Yay! Thanks Japan!
So, so! Do I look good do I look good!”
Stepping away from Italy and bracing himself
for whatever he would see, Japan sighed. Italy was a handful even when he acted
pretty decent…
He blinked.
“Ve~ Japan’s having
a nosebleed~”
Japan felt very mortified, and yet he couldn’t
look away. Italy did look positively good, when the kimono was properly fitting
him; it didn’t make him look effeminate, and yet he was holding himself up with
a certain grace that didn’t belong to the usual klutz. It was surprising how
good the light blue colour was on him.
The kimono’s pattern was that of small, pale
grew flowers on a beautiful blue, with a dark blue for the obi and the borders.
It was a magnificent piece, not the best, but good enough that probably it was
worth around six hundred thousand yen.
It was, indeed, a bit short on the legs, but
not enough to notice at a first look.
“You… you look good” he muttered, scrambling
away to get a tissue, followed by Italy’s pleased “ve~”.
Why did he had to have a weak side for
kimono–dressed people? Especially if they were not Japanese, looked good in
them, and–
Seconds afterwards, he was tackled to the
ground, and started helplessly flailing his arms around, spluttering in shock.
“Hug~” Italy chuckled happily, clearly
ignoring last time he had tried to hug Japan.
“I–Italy!”
What about the kimono! It’d get ruined! And
what about his decency! ah, he was utterly mortified!
And a bit turned on. Which was not good. It
shouldn’t happen! Not with Italy!
… who was snuggling closer, nuzzling his neck
and–
“Gh–gah! Take
responsibility for your actions!” he yelled again, grabbing at Italy’s hair and
trying to push him away.
Which appeared to be the worst move he could
pull, because that elicited a strong, earthily moan from the other nation, and
once he opened his eyes, he realised he had grabbed on Italy’s curl.
Which, he knew, was…
“Sumimasen! I… I…” Japan jumped upwards, but with Italy on
top of him, the movement caused them to topple over again, their position
switched. Japan groaned at the pain in his knees, and sat up a bit. Only to
realise he was sitting on top of Italy.
Of a kimono–clad Italy, flushed and panting.
And he was still holding his curl.
On a normal day basis, Japan would have
sprinted away, as fast as a mach3, and attempted a seppuku for the sake of his
destroyed pride. On a normal day basis, that is. Unfortunately, this situation
wasn’t normal at all.
Well, Italy made any day feel absurdly out of
normalcy.
As it was, Kiku leaned forwards, attracted by
the opened lips, and shyly touched them with his own. After all, he did tell Feliciano he’d have to take
responsibility.
Italy made a small noise, flushed, but
recovered quickly and pushed upwards, in a clear acceptation of the kiss, hands
coming to rest on Japan’s hips gripping the hems of his own haori.
Kiku had some hard time breathing through the
kiss, and opened his lips; Feliciano’s eyes glinted and he took advantage, his
tongue slipping through to touch Japan’s, who gasped, pulling away. Feliciano
blinked, wondering what was wrong, and chuckled at the shocked, almost offended
expression he was receiving.
“Ve~ Kiku~” he
drawled the other nation’s name “relax! It’s just a kiss–”
Only to have Japan’s lips again on his,
fighting sloppily for control, tongue messily meeting his own.
Italy inwardly chuckled, and slowed down the
kiss. He was an Italian, even if a virgin one, and knew how to kiss someone
properly. He’d teach Japan.
Japan finally slowed down, coming to a rhythm
with the other, and pressed his hands on Feliciano’s chest, feeling the
softness of the kimono under his fingers, and painfully aware of the amount of
naked skin underneath.
That kimono really made everything different.
Slowly, shifting his weight so not to hurt Feliciano,
he leaned forwards, doing another thing he had wanted to do since his first
meeting with the Italian –lick his curl.
Feliciano’s reaction was obvious –groaning,
throwing his head backwards, and flushing crimson, and Kiku was filled with a
vague sense of satisfaction when he felt something poking at his tight, too. He
was growing painfully erect as well, but wanted to prolong that exploring for a
bit more.
They kissed again, Japan’s fingers caressing
Italy’s curl, and Italy’s tongue doing wonders to Japan’s, and Kiku couldn’t
but think this felt just about right.
Part of him wondered why they had never tried
before.
Pushing down Italy on the floor, he shifted
the obi upwards, unwilling to take it off yet (if ever…), and making enough
space to push the folds aside, enough to reveal Italy’s vital regions; Italy
hissed at the feeling, opening his legs a bit and adjusting to the weight on
him, in the meanwhile also pushing down Japan’s hakama and underwear.
Their now exposed erections brushed together,
drawing quiet moans from both of them. Japan pushed down his hips, demanding
more contact, and Italy propped up on his arms, widening his legs even more.
“F–feels good” he moaned, sneaking one arm
around Kiku’s lithe waist to hold him closer.
“U–un” Japan manoeuvred himself flush against
Italy’s body, hands grabbing his shoulders and moving again, their lips joining
in.
It did feel good, and he wanted more of that feeling.
Both moving in a slow pace, exploring each
other’s body with shy touches and shifts, Kiku and Feliciano kissed again and
again, dancing with their fingers as their tongues engaged in a faster, bolder
dance.
Japan groaned, sliding again with his full
weight, whilst breathing on the other’s curl, feeling Italy’s lips kiss down a
path to his neck.
It felt too pleasant, too good… he needed
something more… he needed…
He stopped. Was he really going to continue
this to the point of no return? Was Italy even ok with this, or not?
“Ahn… J–Japan? Is
there… something wrong?” Italy’s concerned face made him flush and shake his
head hard. “Don’t you… want to continue?”
There was a pleading quality in his tone that
helped Japan overcome his hesitation. They were this far already, it wouldn’t
require much pondering to just move on, after all… besides, they were both
aroused and in need…
And that kimono… stretched so deliciously on
white tights and exposed skin…
“Uh…” Japan flushed and shifted around,
suddenly self–conscious. “It’s that… is it ok… I mean… to…”
Italy tilted his head to the side “ve~?” then he somehow understood, and his cheeks flushed
bright red again. “Ah~ do you know how to… I mean…”
Japan felt completely embarrassed, and yet not
enough to actually stop. He looked up, meeting Italy’s eyes “Greece–san
actually… well, we… he… yes” he
finished, shoulders dropping in defeat.
He had his own past filled with… dubious
things and such, but it was Greece then one who had truly tried to show him how
sex could be fun. He had bottomed with him, though. Kiku frowned, biting his
lower lip as he shifted a bit over Italy.
He really didn’t want to bottom again, it had
been frustrating, if only pleasurable, and he could say he knew what to do, having experienced it in first person. He wanted
to try topping this time.
“Ve~ then it’s ok, I
trust Japan to know what to do~” Italy chose that moment to wriggle underneath
him, and Japan let out a strangled moan, remembering their position and what
they were about to do.
Italy hissed in pleasure and shifted again,
pushing his hips upwards and trying to kiss Japan again, but Kiku stopped him,
sliding off from his lap and boldly pushing his legs apart, boldly staring down.
Suddenly, he remembered he actually had something to use.
“Jap–”
Japan scrambled to his feet, running to the
closest cupboard and slamming it open; he knew Greece had left something there
to tease him with (who knew the next time he’d try something on him), and let
out a cry of satisfaction when his fingers came into contact with the jar of
slippery lubrication he knew was there.
Running back to Italy, Japan crouched at his
side, meeting his eyes. “I’ll…” he made a parting motion with his fingers, and
Italy blinked before his face lit up in understanding.
Italy gulped and flushed, wondering how they
had ended in such a situation, but didn’t really care at that point. Closing
his eyes, he tried to calm down. He really wanted to continue. He trusted
Japan, and was also glad Kiku trusted him enough to do these things with him…
Smiling shyly, Italy held his palm open for
the lubrication jar. Japan blinked and shook his head, also blushing darkly.
They remained in silence for a second,
realising that both were demanding the same position.
“Japan~ I think I should…”
“Feliciano, I…”
They stopped again. Apparently, neither wanted
to bottom.
Placing the jar on the ground at his side,
Japan returned on top of the other nation, slowly kissing him. Italy opened his
lips and pushed his tongue in Kiku’s mouth, trying to control the kiss.
Both had the same idea –keeping the other
occupied would grant them the upper hand.
Japan, less experienced in kissing, decided to
go for a different approach. If he wanted to top, and he wanted it, he needed to cheat.
One hand moving lower on Italy’s body,
caressing the exposed skin under the still half–tied kimono, he let his fingers
brush against Feliciano’s heated arousal, feeling it twitch under his boldly
touches.
Italy groaned in the kiss, faltering, and
Japan pushed his tongue back, fighting it with his own, licking and sucking
whilst taking a hold of Italy’s erection. Italy whined, parting his legs to
allow Japan to stroke him faster, but Japan kept his slow motions, knowing
exactly what to do.
His other hand moved upwards, twiddling with
Feliciano’s curl and bringing it down to his lips, licking at it.
Holding it between his teeth, he sucked on it,
using all his tongue skills (years of
tying cherry stems) to keep Feliciano moaning.
“Ahn~ n… no… sto…
stop…” Italy twitched, holding on
Japan’s shoulders and hiding his face in the other’s chest.
He was in no way coherent enough to get the
upper hand anymore.
Slowly, whilst keeping Feliciano occupied, Kiku
uncorked the jar with his free hand and dipped three fingers in, shuddering
lightly at the cool sensation.
Even slower, he moved lightly, parting Italy’s
legs with his own tights and manoeuvring them both so that Italy’s back fell on
the tatami, and stretching a bit (he was lightly
shorter than the other nation) he pushed one finger in.
Italy squealed, unconsciously pushing his legs
wider and constricting his muscles, but Japan kept stroking his erection and
nibbling at his erogenous zone, and Feliciano had no way to oppose the fingers
probing in –at first only one, small and searching, then two, stretching him,
loosening–
“Ah! Ki–Kiku~”
Japan gulped down his uneasiness, squirming as
Italy’s soft cries kept him as hard as he could be, and brushed against that
different–feeling pattern inside, groaning in appreciation when one of Italy’s
legs came in contact with his aching length.
Eyes wide open, he stared down. Every twitch
of his fingers sent tremors through Feliciano’s body, making him moan and gasp
and shiver. With his thumb, he experimentally pressed on the top of his
erection, smearing some pre-come and that, too, made Italy gasp.
He was clearly enjoying it, putty in Japan’s
hands and this…
Yes, that was it.
The feeling of being in control… it was
amazing.
He thanked Kami for
Italy’s curl –without it, he doubted he would have managed to top.
Japan had never felt better. Holding this much
control over a person… he loved it. It brought sparkles of pleasure through his
body, making him almost too eager to finish preparing Italy, so that he could…
Gulping down a satisfied smile, Japan pulled
away his fingers and positioned, staring at Italy’s writhing body in lust.
“I’m going to push in” he murmured as a
warning.
Feliciano groaned, but he’d lost the game
already. Besides, it felt too good. Just one finger almost had him there, so…
with something bigger…
Nodding, he relaxed his muscles and pressed
his back to the tatami. Kiku stared at his worried face, knowing this was
probably Italy’s first time, and moved forwards to intertwine his fingers with
Feliciano’s.
Brown eyes fluttered open and a grateful smile
was sent in his direction.
Then, Japan pushed in.
It was so different than being filled. Italy’s
inner walls were constricting, tight and hot, and it almost chocked him,
sending sparkles of pleasure through his body.
He opened his mouth wide, gasping in surprise,
and stilled, small shivers running all over his skin. It felt terribly good.
Far too good.
Ohgodheaven kind of good.
Closing his eyes, he tried to reign control
over his body, that wanted nothing more than push inside and move. Every breath
made it even more painful to stay still, but he forced himself not to shift,
waiting for Italy to give him the ok–
“Ahn~ Ja… Japan… ple–please…”
Snapping his eyes open, Japan looked down, and
the sight alone almost made him come. Italy was shivering and trembling, clenching
rhythmically around him and biting on his lower lip. He was gasping out in
short, ragged breaths, and his erection was leaking pre-come.
The blue kimono was still around his body,
enveloping him like a drape… he looked delicious enough to eat.
“Is… is it ok?” Japan groaned, leaning down to
brush one hand on Feliciano’s cheek, who trembled and smiled.
“Feels… feels str–strange
but good… so good… please… move…”
Japan let out a shuddering breath and did as
he was told, grabbing hold of Italy’s hips to help himself, quickly starting a
fast pace. It was vaguely difficult and tiring, but it still felt amazingly
good. Italy arched his back, helping Japan by pushing back to meet his
thrusting, and at the same time wrapped one hand around his own erection,
pumping himself in time.
“So good… faster,
please…”
Japan nodded, feeling lightheaded himself, and
didn’t stop.
Bodies pressing close, sweaty and hot, mouths
seeking each other to share sloppy, tasty kisses, hands brushing and groping
and exploring–
“Hnn… Feliciano–kun…”
The pleasure rocketed higher, and both of them
soon were moaning together, clinging at each other’s body in unison, gasping
and grunting and–
“Kiku~…”
Italy was the first to come, clenching his
walls tightly around Japan and groaning loudly, and Japan was close behind,
shuddering and moaning Italy’s name, falling on top of the Italian with a
groan.
The two remained in that position for a long
while, breathing deeply and recovering from their orgasms, before Italy let out
a happy yelp and cuddled Japan, dirtying both his expensive kimono and Kiku’s clothes.
“Ah! St–stop!” Japan tried to push away, but
Italy held onto him, giggling and shifting so that they were lying side by
side.
“Hmmm… sleepy~” he murmured, cuddling even
closer.
Japan flushed in shame at what they had been
doing, and at the fact that Italy’s position and arms around him didn’t allow
him to go and clean up, then sighed in defeat, closing his eyes and accepting
the hug.
He knew there was no way the other would let
him go. He closed his eyes, content and warm and tingly, and allowed Italy’s
slow breathing to lull him to sleep.
That was how Germany found them both a hour
later –sleeping on the tatami, with Italy happily snoozing and clinging at a
clearly discomforted but also sleeping Japan.
Thankfully for Ludwig’s sanity, he didn’t
notice the stains on their ruffled clothes, and simply shook his head, leaving
the room.
……………………………………
Cepheus:
And
here we have the ending notes:
Fundoshi: underwear (just google some
sumo fighter, or the word fundoshi).
Juban: cotton white top and skirt to wear underneath the
kimono.
Tabi: white socks.
Doura: upper lining.
Fuki: hem guard.
Sumimasen (Japanese): I’m sorry
Seppuku: formal word for hara-kiri.
Haori: kind of large–sleeved Japanese shirt.
Hakama: kind of large and comfortable Japanese pants.
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