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HellFire	By : ForbiddenDream Category: +G to L > Hetalia: Axis Powers Views: 1228 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story

Chapter List
- 1-HellFire
- 1
Stepping into the scared ground that Alasdair, was convinced he shouldn’t be allowed to walk on, stepping into the Cathedral that he had been coming to since he was a child. He carefully touched the paint of the pillars that had been peeling showing the age of the building, as benches came into view with other sinners, that sure as hell had nothing on his sins.

Alasdair strode over to the confessional, accidentally bumping into a Nun. The red headed man, caught his footing but the Sister was falling. Quickly he reached out to catch the other, pulling the Nun close to him. “Sorry Sister, I didn’t see ya.” The Nun, whose face was hidden behind a shawl looked up into Alasdair’s emerald eyes, with baby blue ones. Alasdair flushed and quickly let the Nun go, adding a new sinful thought to be confessed.

Opening the curtain, he noted it had been the fifth time this week that he became familiar with the redwood bench as well as the touch of the fabric that he gave a gentle rub before taking his seat, closing the curtain again.

“Forgive me Father, for I ‘ave sinned. It has been a day since my last confession…” Alasdair listed off all his sins, looking down at his hands that he had folded in his lap. “-Last…I had lewd thoughts of the Sister outside. I do not know ‘er name, but ‘er eyes spoke to me, lookin’ like they were lustin’ fer me as well…” The priest on the other side of the confessional told Alasdair what to drown his sins in and sent him on his way.

As always Alasdair ended up with no real help, even though he felt like he no longer needed it, he knew he was going to hell no matter how many times he would confess. He could confess until his mouth ran dry and he was coughing out blood, but nothing would change for him. Stepping out the confessional, he spotted the Nun from before and licked his lips, the thoughts just confessed flooding back into his mind.

Striding over to the Sister, he stopped, just short of the Nun. The Sister turned to look at him, and coaxed him over with a finger, it was playful and far to devious for a woman under an oath. Alasdair felt like he was being lead by the devil, where all his repented for sins with come back to burn him. Following the road to his damnation, Alasdair let himself be dragged off by the Nun.

Walking after the Nun, he had lost sight of the Sister. There was a note, near glass candles. ‘Meet me out back in the garden’, was what the note said and Alasdair, dare not pass that up. Traveling down the corridor that lead to the garden, he heard choked gasps, which peaked his interest. Peeking out from the doorway he found a man wearing a Nun outfit. The stockings were ripped, showing off his entrance as he pressed his fingers inside himself, and he was already worked up, the tip of his cock pink and ready for release.

If Alasdair was smart he would have turned around and left, but no this was exactly what he wanted. Sure he thought the Sister was an actual woman of the Lord but this was even better. The other man, holding the long black dress up and stuffed slightly in his mouth so as not too make much noise, his fingers worked himself, getting himself slick to the point that the two fingers weren’t doing it for him anymore.

Alasdair, bit his bottom lip and felt his pants getting tight. He already made peace with the fact that he was going to Hell, might as well keep it going. The Scotsman stepped out into the garden, watching those blue eyes look up at him, clouded with lust. Alasdair smirked and went over to the other male. “Keep those fingers in. I wanna watch some more.” He said palming at the erection that was straining in his pants.

The other followed the order as if it were a normal request. He turned his fingers in and out, adding a third one to pleasure himself more. The man in the Nun outfit looked up at Alasdair as he did what he was asked, making the Scotsman shiver. “What a naughty Nun~ What’s yer name?” He asked, moving closer and rubbing himself more.

The other man smirked, taking behind the fabric. “Francis, and yours so that I may scream it to the Heavens?” Alasdair grinned and moved even closer, reaching out to touch the other to know he wasn’t some sick trick of his mind. “Alasdair.” It was simply said and there was nothing else to say between the two, no more words.

It was mind numbing how fast and how easily Alasdair took over, sliding into Francis. Francis was had more of the dress shoved into his mouth, screaming into the fabric with every thrust. Alasdair having Francis’ legs spread and up, watching the other grip the bench or cling onto him, was driving him up the wall. An electric shock from doing something like this, outside where anyone could stumble in on them, traveled Alasdair’s frame.

Francis wrapped his arms around the Scotsman, crying out his name over and over with each new thrust given to him, racking his frame. Francis barely noticed Alasdair had lifted his legs higher, as his already ripped stockings were being bitten at, by the thigh. Francis shivered and whined for more, but Alasdair decided to play coy. He shook his head, and turned Francis on his side, pulling out slightly as he did so, only to drive back in, crashing against Francis’ prostate.

Francis dropped the dress from his mouth, crying out Alasdair’s name and begging him to ram into him. Alasdair smirked, slowing his thrusts down, making Francis whine. An exchange in looks made Alasdair break and give what the other craved for, of course not without getting what he wanted. Reaching down, Alasdair, gripped Francis’ cock by the base, preventing him from coming.

The thrusts became harder, and Francis was growing weaker from the pleasure, as his jaw slacked open, in silent cries. Alasdair’s breathing had become labored and he felt the pressure building up in his abdomen, making him groan. He was so close and all he could think about now, was coming along with the other. Leaning down to lick the other’s lips, he caught them in a kiss, making it deep as he drove in as fast and hard as his hips would allow.

As Alasdair was there, he stroked the other, grinning in between the possessive kiss. Francis groaned, biting Alasdair’s lip as his frame shook and tensed, coming on his dress, screaming into the others mouth. Alasdair groaned coming inside the other, making sure to milk Francis completely.

The two took some time to recover from their high but once they did, Alasdair moved to make himself presentable. Francis watched the red head, wanting to say something, wanting to say that he had been watching the other for months, no years, but he was worried, worried that the other would just want a meaningless fling.

Once Alasdair was done, he helped Francis get himself situated. “You know… I think I’ve seen ya before…but I ain’t really sure. Do ya think I can uh… get better acquainted with ya? Ya don’t seem like one to just fuck some random person. I know you must got a story.” Francis looked up at the red head, into his emerald eyes. He smiled wrapping his arms behind his neck, moving close to him.

(Francis would tell Alasdair later, about how he had this whole thing planned out, but was too afraid to ever really say a word to him, fearing rejection from the one man he fell in love with.)
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