hetalia ficlets || the fix;
oh-ho, and look who sed they would never write sex? well, i have. it's not really explicit and it's not really about sex in particular, just i guess whatever i could get from the dregs of the thing.
title: Islero
pairing: Spain x Romano
rating: PG-16
summary: Fighting off shadows with momentary bright; Romano and his worries.
☆ISLERO
The push of shadow, flush of action; bright impressions even in this tearing dark. Body against body, fierce feeling, hot sensation, coming- up white, and Romano felt Spain shudder above him, listened to his breathy gasp like you'd listen to Church bells.
The snap of electricity crossed his brain, left a trail of its static along his nerves, hazy through his thoughts. Spain collapsed on top of him; though he was smaller Romano figured the weight wasn't so bad. Like the calling drums or pop thunder, hammering of heart on heart and chest to chest...
Spain rolled over like somebody wounded, knocked out loaded; he let out a breathless laugh through his thin panting. "Ay, mi querido," he said, reaching over blindly to touch Romano's throat- leaving traces of dusted gold as he touched the arteries, lifeline. "You're great- te quiero."
Romano said nothing in return; he felt his head get cold, and his breathing evened out quickly. Spain's breathing next to him, flustered music. The room was dark again, now, tangible again, as Romano looked up at the ceiling. Could shadows descend again? He felt it was somehow hollow. He counted up his demons, what had survived; and after a couple moments' worth of calculation, he found that they were still there- a moment of bliss just followed by the same old darkness. His mouth pulled down; he felt strange longing in the bones of his fingers, wanting to grasp something, a cure for this shadow ill.
His eyes darted over to Spain when he felt movement across the mattress. Spain was reaching over with a dopey, clumsy movement, to the bedstand; a pack of cigarettes there and a lighter resting against a rosary. Romano listened as Spain hummed some far-off song; something inside him shifted in irritation. Spain could always be so cheerful, so strong...Romano figured this had to be remedied.
Spain flicked the lighter once, twice- "Dios mio, what's wrong with this...?"
"The Hell do you think you're doing?"
Spain paused, looking over to Romano with surprised eyes. "Oh, I'm sorry, Romano- I didn't know you minded," Spain said, blinking, setting down the cigarette-
But his hand never made it to put down the lighter, it just fell onto the pillows as Romano reached for him (blind man reaching shaman), his hands along his arms, pushing at desire. So strangely soft in the way he pulled him on top of him. "You ain't done yet," Romano said, with a biting angle, a command, in his words; Spain paused, gave a crooked grin down through the darkness, and leaned to press his mouth to Romano's, so that again they could give their own flavor to shadows, to dark.
title: Swing Low, Sweet Cadillac
pairing: USxUK
rating: NC-17
summary: Morning sun & morning sex.
☆SWING LOW, SWEET CADILLAC
The morning light wasn't so bright yet- didn't take on the white yet, still tanned down from clouds and night. A steady kind of light; the rush of silence around them as America pushed into England, just at that small crooked angle- the right stuff, right spot. England's hands on America's back, hot flushing into cold where his touch trailed.
Sweet friction- England lifting his legs just so, closing tight space tighter...from the apartment above them, they could hear the deep incomprehensible bass resounding from the morning radio; from outside the bedroom, the flush and hot bubble of the electric coffee maker. But everything else silent, except for streams of one heart pushing out onto another.
Morning sex was always quiet; the push of white onto white- but then a gasp- England's soft words, a note from out the bottom of his throat pushing up, sounds to make stars cross America's mind. It was too intimate to put up front, but England'd always needed this, this sensation, the feeling of one to another; America was thankful he was the one to give it to him.
The sunlight was pale now, and dodged bright through the blinds; a moment worth of dark and refuge as America dipped his head down to kiss England's neck (the Adam's apple, the pulse- wet and hot). A chance to slow their breathing as the radio man upstairs said, "Every 96th caller wins tickets to the concert, so make sure you're calling- every hour, on the hour!" The coffee had stopped. Traffic outside.
-Call of a touch, stars in eyes brushing against each other. Love like a stone. Then America got up in one long cowboy movement, rolled off the bed; put on a Dizzy Gillespie record, and with one low note their morning was started.
title: Shine[Reveal]
pairing: Greece x Japan
rating: NC-17
summary: Different facets show in different lights.
☆SHINE[REVEAL]
The lines of light are bright gold, spin like lace through the afternoon-
This isn't baby love, no way about it- something shameless, fervent, in the way Greece moves. Japan's hand pushes up against his chest, not to push him away exactly, but to incite a response- resistance against resistance. Greece's hips move with the fluidity of sun.
-His hands are cool and all the spots he touches are right, something blooms where he touches. Contact as though to accentuate movement, rhythm, thrust- something just slow and sticky sweet despite the pace. He smiles at Japan and looks into his eyes because he knows it incites embarrassment, knows that Japan will blush. There's almost nothing he likes more than to have the color in Japan's eyes meet his straight.
Japan bites down on his lip, he tries to be quiet. That's not exactly something Greece allows for; he pushes harder and deeper, and sound comes up white from Japan's throat. A dulcet music- grows cool and steady.
Faster: Japan tries to keep up with the electric buzz swimming in his head but finds he can't- finds that sound is the only way to cope with it. That's what Greece likes to hear, unrestrained, gasping, loud as Hell.
Japan comes before Greece does- he grips onto Greece and doesn't know how hard, lets out one loud gasp as pink flushes through his senses. Greece is still moving, but Japan suddenly risks the rhythm- pulls Greece forward awkwardly for a kiss and kisses him with criminal force, everything hot and sparking.
This is a side of Japan Greece likes- uninhibited, feral, willing to go bold all the way through. Japan's nails on his back and his voice in his ears, a good beat to go on, beats right to his heart.
Greece doesn't make a sound when he comes, just shudders (Japan's embarrassed- he realizes how loud he is). Japan can feel the electric tremor falling through his body. "G-Greece," Japan chokes out, and not knowing what else to do, reaches up to turn Greece's face so that they're looking each other in the eyes.
Greece looks surprised for a second. His eyes light wide- but then they lower to a fond placidity. Japan's at a loss for words and his eyes grow worried. He blushes, pink apple color crossing his cheeks. Greece just smiles- lopsidedly, that shadowed, insinuating smile that drives Japan crazy, like a curse- and leans down to him. Grin cuts soft, almost touches helpless lips. But they don't kiss, their mingled breathing communicates it well enough.
-Lines of light were bright gold, spun like lace right past their knowing eyes.
NOTES;;
Old Cadillac nev-er die- the financing company just faaaaaaade 'em away...Swing Low, Sweet Cadillac is a Dizzy Gillespie song.
I knock her lights out, and she still shine/ I hate to see her go, but I love to watch her leave/ But I keep her runnin' back an' forth like a soccer team... OH LIL' WAYNE Y SO AWESOME!? /random
Thanks for reading! :D
title: Islero
pairing: Spain x Romano
rating: PG-16
summary: Fighting off shadows with momentary bright; Romano and his worries.
☆ISLERO
The push of shadow, flush of action; bright impressions even in this tearing dark. Body against body, fierce feeling, hot sensation, coming- up white, and Romano felt Spain shudder above him, listened to his breathy gasp like you'd listen to Church bells.
The snap of electricity crossed his brain, left a trail of its static along his nerves, hazy through his thoughts. Spain collapsed on top of him; though he was smaller Romano figured the weight wasn't so bad. Like the calling drums or pop thunder, hammering of heart on heart and chest to chest...
Spain rolled over like somebody wounded, knocked out loaded; he let out a breathless laugh through his thin panting. "Ay, mi querido," he said, reaching over blindly to touch Romano's throat- leaving traces of dusted gold as he touched the arteries, lifeline. "You're great- te quiero."
Romano said nothing in return; he felt his head get cold, and his breathing evened out quickly. Spain's breathing next to him, flustered music. The room was dark again, now, tangible again, as Romano looked up at the ceiling. Could shadows descend again? He felt it was somehow hollow. He counted up his demons, what had survived; and after a couple moments' worth of calculation, he found that they were still there- a moment of bliss just followed by the same old darkness. His mouth pulled down; he felt strange longing in the bones of his fingers, wanting to grasp something, a cure for this shadow ill.
His eyes darted over to Spain when he felt movement across the mattress. Spain was reaching over with a dopey, clumsy movement, to the bedstand; a pack of cigarettes there and a lighter resting against a rosary. Romano listened as Spain hummed some far-off song; something inside him shifted in irritation. Spain could always be so cheerful, so strong...Romano figured this had to be remedied.
Spain flicked the lighter once, twice- "Dios mio, what's wrong with this...?"
"The Hell do you think you're doing?"
Spain paused, looking over to Romano with surprised eyes. "Oh, I'm sorry, Romano- I didn't know you minded," Spain said, blinking, setting down the cigarette-
But his hand never made it to put down the lighter, it just fell onto the pillows as Romano reached for him (blind man reaching shaman), his hands along his arms, pushing at desire. So strangely soft in the way he pulled him on top of him. "You ain't done yet," Romano said, with a biting angle, a command, in his words; Spain paused, gave a crooked grin down through the darkness, and leaned to press his mouth to Romano's, so that again they could give their own flavor to shadows, to dark.
title: Swing Low, Sweet Cadillac
pairing: USxUK
rating: NC-17
summary: Morning sun & morning sex.
☆SWING LOW, SWEET CADILLAC
The morning light wasn't so bright yet- didn't take on the white yet, still tanned down from clouds and night. A steady kind of light; the rush of silence around them as America pushed into England, just at that small crooked angle- the right stuff, right spot. England's hands on America's back, hot flushing into cold where his touch trailed.
Sweet friction- England lifting his legs just so, closing tight space tighter...from the apartment above them, they could hear the deep incomprehensible bass resounding from the morning radio; from outside the bedroom, the flush and hot bubble of the electric coffee maker. But everything else silent, except for streams of one heart pushing out onto another.
Morning sex was always quiet; the push of white onto white- but then a gasp- England's soft words, a note from out the bottom of his throat pushing up, sounds to make stars cross America's mind. It was too intimate to put up front, but England'd always needed this, this sensation, the feeling of one to another; America was thankful he was the one to give it to him.
The sunlight was pale now, and dodged bright through the blinds; a moment worth of dark and refuge as America dipped his head down to kiss England's neck (the Adam's apple, the pulse- wet and hot). A chance to slow their breathing as the radio man upstairs said, "Every 96th caller wins tickets to the concert, so make sure you're calling- every hour, on the hour!" The coffee had stopped. Traffic outside.
-Call of a touch, stars in eyes brushing against each other. Love like a stone. Then America got up in one long cowboy movement, rolled off the bed; put on a Dizzy Gillespie record, and with one low note their morning was started.
title: Shine[Reveal]
pairing: Greece x Japan
rating: NC-17
summary: Different facets show in different lights.
☆SHINE[REVEAL]
The lines of light are bright gold, spin like lace through the afternoon-
This isn't baby love, no way about it- something shameless, fervent, in the way Greece moves. Japan's hand pushes up against his chest, not to push him away exactly, but to incite a response- resistance against resistance. Greece's hips move with the fluidity of sun.
-His hands are cool and all the spots he touches are right, something blooms where he touches. Contact as though to accentuate movement, rhythm, thrust- something just slow and sticky sweet despite the pace. He smiles at Japan and looks into his eyes because he knows it incites embarrassment, knows that Japan will blush. There's almost nothing he likes more than to have the color in Japan's eyes meet his straight.
Japan bites down on his lip, he tries to be quiet. That's not exactly something Greece allows for; he pushes harder and deeper, and sound comes up white from Japan's throat. A dulcet music- grows cool and steady.
Faster: Japan tries to keep up with the electric buzz swimming in his head but finds he can't- finds that sound is the only way to cope with it. That's what Greece likes to hear, unrestrained, gasping, loud as Hell.
Japan comes before Greece does- he grips onto Greece and doesn't know how hard, lets out one loud gasp as pink flushes through his senses. Greece is still moving, but Japan suddenly risks the rhythm- pulls Greece forward awkwardly for a kiss and kisses him with criminal force, everything hot and sparking.
This is a side of Japan Greece likes- uninhibited, feral, willing to go bold all the way through. Japan's nails on his back and his voice in his ears, a good beat to go on, beats right to his heart.
Greece doesn't make a sound when he comes, just shudders (Japan's embarrassed- he realizes how loud he is). Japan can feel the electric tremor falling through his body. "G-Greece," Japan chokes out, and not knowing what else to do, reaches up to turn Greece's face so that they're looking each other in the eyes.
Greece looks surprised for a second. His eyes light wide- but then they lower to a fond placidity. Japan's at a loss for words and his eyes grow worried. He blushes, pink apple color crossing his cheeks. Greece just smiles- lopsidedly, that shadowed, insinuating smile that drives Japan crazy, like a curse- and leans down to him. Grin cuts soft, almost touches helpless lips. But they don't kiss, their mingled breathing communicates it well enough.
-Lines of light were bright gold, spun like lace right past their knowing eyes.
NOTES;;
Old Cadillac nev-er die- the financing company just faaaaaaade 'em away...Swing Low, Sweet Cadillac is a Dizzy Gillespie song.
I knock her lights out, and she still shine/ I hate to see her go, but I love to watch her leave/ But I keep her runnin' back an' forth like a soccer team... OH LIL' WAYNE Y SO AWESOME!? /random
Thanks for reading! :D