Of Steel and Flesh
Title: Of Steel and Flesh
Author: monimi101
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Switzerland/Poland
POV: 3rd, Switzerland centric
Summary: "guns" was the prompt word
Author's Note: written for the Hetalia Kink Meme, un-beta'd. Please note that I do not encourage licking loaded guns. It is dangerous.
A pair of warm hands close around Switzerland’s waist, a too-hot tongue licks his earlobe wetly. He feels his entire face turn red as he jumps, spins around, and fire four shots at whoever that was.
“Like, woah, calm down, Vash,” the other nation slurs, having narrowly dodged the bullets. “You could have, like, totally hurt me.”
“Why the fuck did you do that, Poland?” Switzerland yells, his face still red. He wipes his ear angrily, his other hand still pointing the gun towards the other nation.
“I dunno,” Poland replies. “You’re always, like, so totally uptight, I just thought I could help you relax, if you know what I mean.” He waggles his eyebrows suggestively and stumbles a bit.
Switzerland realizes that the slightly older nation is piss drunk, and wonders whether it would be worth the effort to help the other nation get home safely. That does explain the sudden absence of his usual shyness, actually. All the while, he keeps his gun trained on the drunken blond.
A soft moan snaps him out of his thoughts. Poland is licking his gun, fucking licking it. His lightly glossed lips part alluringly, his soft tongue running over cold metal in the most suggestive way Vash has ever seen. His eyes are half-closed, his cheeks flushed. It looks, well, it looks really goddamn indecent. Switzerland fights the urge to pull the trigger. He’s tempted, but he doesn’t want to actually kill the other nation…
It’s only now that he realizes what Poland is wearing. He’s in a school-girl outfit, for fuck’s sake! The kind with the cream sweater and the red plaid skirt, and shit, it’s obscenely short. If it were any shorter, he’d be able to see-he doesn’t want to think about it.
Poland’s lips close around the barrel of the gun, his cheeks hollowing just slightly as he sucks on it. He moans again, so softly Switzerland almost doesn’t hear it, and fuck. He’s kind of reacting to this, which is just ridiculously fucking wrong, this is Poland, this is a guy, and one he hardly talks to, at that!
One of Poland’s hands is creeping towards the hem of his skirt, and Switzerland remembers that they’re still in the middle of the road, and someone could walk by any minute now. (And no, that thought did not just make him a bit harder, because that would be perverted and wrong.)
“Poland, if you don’t get the fuck away from me, I will pull the trigger,” he says, but his voice is husky and low, and somehow it morphs the meaning of the words into, “Let’s go somewhere more private, I want you.”
Poland looks up at him, still sucking on the gun, and fuck, it’s way too easy to picture those pretty lips on something else. His hand is trembling a bit, and his face is probably still bright red. His pants are becoming less and less comfortable.
Poland withdraws his mouth slowly, a thin line of saliva connecting his plump lower lip to the barrel. “You gonna take me home or what?” he asks indecently, looking up at the other nation though half-closed eyes.
Switzerland turns away abruptly and starts walking quickly towards his house. He needs to get away from that fucking crazy little drunk slut. He doesn’t realize until he’s on his doorstep, searching desperately for his keys, that the other nation had followed him. Poland’s hand wrap around his waist again, hot lips nibble on his ear.
“Come on, babe, find your fucking keys already,” Poland whispers in his ear. “Or we’ll have to do it right here, in front of everyone…” He gropes the other nation for emphasis.
Switzerland’s whole body stiffens, and for a moment, he doesn’t move at all. Then he finds his keys and opens the door furiously, getting in as quickly as possible and pointing his gun, again, at the other nation. “Don’t even try to fucking follow me, you slut,” he whispers. It’s supposed to sound menacing, but is comes out sounding something distinctly different. When Poland’s hand reaches out to grasp the gun, he realizes his mistake.
Again, Poland licks up the weapon, his eyes locked on Switzerland. To his great embarrassment, the neutral country realizes the other man is palming himself roughly through the skirt as he mouths at the gun. It’s possibly the most sexual thing Switzerland has ever seen, and his cock twitches at the sight.
He yanks the drunken nation inside, slamming him against the wall and kissing him roughly. Poland is surprised at first, but begins to kiss back within seconds, his hands entwining in Switzerland’s hair. Vash slides his knee between the other nation’s legs, and Feliks grinds down on it desperately. The drunken nation moans loudly at the friction.
Hands slide from his hair to his shoulders, and Vash finds his back against the wall as Poland drops to his knees. Uncoordinated hands fumble with his zipper, and Vash has to bite his hand to keep from making an embarrassing sound.
Feliks somehow manages to get his zipper open, and pulls Vash’s erection out greedily, staring at it with lust-filled eyes. Strangely delicate fingers wrap around the shaft as Poland’s mouth envelops the head, moaning wantonly.
Vash can’t help but let out a moan of his own as he feels the vibrations around his prick. He grabs the drunken nation’s hair with the hand he isn’t biting, and pulls, perhaps a bit too hard. Poland doesn’t seem to mind, gasping slightly before licking at the neutral nation’s cock wetly, his hand spreading saliva over the whole thing deftly.
Vash looks down as Poland starts going down on him in earnest, taking as much into his mouth as possibly. He doesn’t even have a gag reflex, as far as the other nation can tell. His cheeks are flushed brightly, and there’s a string of drool running down his chin. His hair is a mess, no thanks to Switzerland’s hand, still fisted in the golden locks. His eyelashes flutter as he bobs up and down, his hand stroking what his mouth can’t handle. He’s pumping his own cock unevenly as he sucks, and Switzerland suddenly isn’t sure he was ever wearing underwear to start with.
The thought makes his cock twitch again, and Poland seems to take this as some sort of signal. He removes his hand and pulls his mouth off to take a deep breath, and then takes Switzerland into his mouth again. This time, he doesn’t stop until his nose is pressed to the other nation’s pubes. Vash stops breathing for a minute, enraptured by the sensation, the sight of it. His hand curls even more tightly into the other nation’s hair, and Poland moans deeply. He’s stroking himself with both hands, now. Switzerland didn’t know there was anyone who enjoyed giving blowjobs that much.
Then Feliks sucks at him wetly and starts humming. Vash lets out a choked cry and throws his head back, hitting it against the wall, but not caring. His eyes squeeze shut and is hips jerk at the sensation. The other nation keeps moving, keeps making those little sounds, and then Vash is coming, without a warning, deep in the other’s throat.
Poland draws off quickly and splutters a bit, some of the liquid falling across his face. He comes with a groan a moment later. Vash sinks to the floor panting. Poland, exhausted, curls up in his arms and falls asleep.
It is only then that Vash realizes the door has been open the whole time. A deep blush spreads across his face and he slams it loudly, praying that no one saw them.
Toris leans against the wall of the neutral nation’s home, blushing deeply. He can’t even begin to process what he just saw. Poland was-! With that gun-toting-! And- And-!
He never should have let Feliks out of his sight for even a second, he thinks to himself, trying in vain to convince himself he wasn’t aroused by what he saw just now. He knew how drunken Feliks was, but when Belarus walked by… He shakes his head angrily. There’s no excuse! His precious Feliks just-!
He moans in despair and wonders how he can get Feliks out of there before Switzerland wakes up. He gets the feeling that the other nation will be back to his violent self, in the morning, and he really doesn’t want Poland to get hurt.
Author: monimi101
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Switzerland/Poland
POV: 3rd, Switzerland centric
Summary: "guns" was the prompt word
Author's Note: written for the Hetalia Kink Meme, un-beta'd. Please note that I do not encourage licking loaded guns. It is dangerous.
A pair of warm hands close around Switzerland’s waist, a too-hot tongue licks his earlobe wetly. He feels his entire face turn red as he jumps, spins around, and fire four shots at whoever that was.
“Like, woah, calm down, Vash,” the other nation slurs, having narrowly dodged the bullets. “You could have, like, totally hurt me.”
“Why the fuck did you do that, Poland?” Switzerland yells, his face still red. He wipes his ear angrily, his other hand still pointing the gun towards the other nation.
“I dunno,” Poland replies. “You’re always, like, so totally uptight, I just thought I could help you relax, if you know what I mean.” He waggles his eyebrows suggestively and stumbles a bit.
Switzerland realizes that the slightly older nation is piss drunk, and wonders whether it would be worth the effort to help the other nation get home safely. That does explain the sudden absence of his usual shyness, actually. All the while, he keeps his gun trained on the drunken blond.
A soft moan snaps him out of his thoughts. Poland is licking his gun, fucking licking it. His lightly glossed lips part alluringly, his soft tongue running over cold metal in the most suggestive way Vash has ever seen. His eyes are half-closed, his cheeks flushed. It looks, well, it looks really goddamn indecent. Switzerland fights the urge to pull the trigger. He’s tempted, but he doesn’t want to actually kill the other nation…
It’s only now that he realizes what Poland is wearing. He’s in a school-girl outfit, for fuck’s sake! The kind with the cream sweater and the red plaid skirt, and shit, it’s obscenely short. If it were any shorter, he’d be able to see-he doesn’t want to think about it.
Poland’s lips close around the barrel of the gun, his cheeks hollowing just slightly as he sucks on it. He moans again, so softly Switzerland almost doesn’t hear it, and fuck. He’s kind of reacting to this, which is just ridiculously fucking wrong, this is Poland, this is a guy, and one he hardly talks to, at that!
One of Poland’s hands is creeping towards the hem of his skirt, and Switzerland remembers that they’re still in the middle of the road, and someone could walk by any minute now. (And no, that thought did not just make him a bit harder, because that would be perverted and wrong.)
“Poland, if you don’t get the fuck away from me, I will pull the trigger,” he says, but his voice is husky and low, and somehow it morphs the meaning of the words into, “Let’s go somewhere more private, I want you.”
Poland looks up at him, still sucking on the gun, and fuck, it’s way too easy to picture those pretty lips on something else. His hand is trembling a bit, and his face is probably still bright red. His pants are becoming less and less comfortable.
Poland withdraws his mouth slowly, a thin line of saliva connecting his plump lower lip to the barrel. “You gonna take me home or what?” he asks indecently, looking up at the other nation though half-closed eyes.
Switzerland turns away abruptly and starts walking quickly towards his house. He needs to get away from that fucking crazy little drunk slut. He doesn’t realize until he’s on his doorstep, searching desperately for his keys, that the other nation had followed him. Poland’s hand wrap around his waist again, hot lips nibble on his ear.
“Come on, babe, find your fucking keys already,” Poland whispers in his ear. “Or we’ll have to do it right here, in front of everyone…” He gropes the other nation for emphasis.
Switzerland’s whole body stiffens, and for a moment, he doesn’t move at all. Then he finds his keys and opens the door furiously, getting in as quickly as possible and pointing his gun, again, at the other nation. “Don’t even try to fucking follow me, you slut,” he whispers. It’s supposed to sound menacing, but is comes out sounding something distinctly different. When Poland’s hand reaches out to grasp the gun, he realizes his mistake.
Again, Poland licks up the weapon, his eyes locked on Switzerland. To his great embarrassment, the neutral country realizes the other man is palming himself roughly through the skirt as he mouths at the gun. It’s possibly the most sexual thing Switzerland has ever seen, and his cock twitches at the sight.
He yanks the drunken nation inside, slamming him against the wall and kissing him roughly. Poland is surprised at first, but begins to kiss back within seconds, his hands entwining in Switzerland’s hair. Vash slides his knee between the other nation’s legs, and Feliks grinds down on it desperately. The drunken nation moans loudly at the friction.
Hands slide from his hair to his shoulders, and Vash finds his back against the wall as Poland drops to his knees. Uncoordinated hands fumble with his zipper, and Vash has to bite his hand to keep from making an embarrassing sound.
Feliks somehow manages to get his zipper open, and pulls Vash’s erection out greedily, staring at it with lust-filled eyes. Strangely delicate fingers wrap around the shaft as Poland’s mouth envelops the head, moaning wantonly.
Vash can’t help but let out a moan of his own as he feels the vibrations around his prick. He grabs the drunken nation’s hair with the hand he isn’t biting, and pulls, perhaps a bit too hard. Poland doesn’t seem to mind, gasping slightly before licking at the neutral nation’s cock wetly, his hand spreading saliva over the whole thing deftly.
Vash looks down as Poland starts going down on him in earnest, taking as much into his mouth as possibly. He doesn’t even have a gag reflex, as far as the other nation can tell. His cheeks are flushed brightly, and there’s a string of drool running down his chin. His hair is a mess, no thanks to Switzerland’s hand, still fisted in the golden locks. His eyelashes flutter as he bobs up and down, his hand stroking what his mouth can’t handle. He’s pumping his own cock unevenly as he sucks, and Switzerland suddenly isn’t sure he was ever wearing underwear to start with.
The thought makes his cock twitch again, and Poland seems to take this as some sort of signal. He removes his hand and pulls his mouth off to take a deep breath, and then takes Switzerland into his mouth again. This time, he doesn’t stop until his nose is pressed to the other nation’s pubes. Vash stops breathing for a minute, enraptured by the sensation, the sight of it. His hand curls even more tightly into the other nation’s hair, and Poland moans deeply. He’s stroking himself with both hands, now. Switzerland didn’t know there was anyone who enjoyed giving blowjobs that much.
Then Feliks sucks at him wetly and starts humming. Vash lets out a choked cry and throws his head back, hitting it against the wall, but not caring. His eyes squeeze shut and is hips jerk at the sensation. The other nation keeps moving, keeps making those little sounds, and then Vash is coming, without a warning, deep in the other’s throat.
Poland draws off quickly and splutters a bit, some of the liquid falling across his face. He comes with a groan a moment later. Vash sinks to the floor panting. Poland, exhausted, curls up in his arms and falls asleep.
It is only then that Vash realizes the door has been open the whole time. A deep blush spreads across his face and he slams it loudly, praying that no one saw them.
Toris leans against the wall of the neutral nation’s home, blushing deeply. He can’t even begin to process what he just saw. Poland was-! With that gun-toting-! And- And-!
He never should have let Feliks out of his sight for even a second, he thinks to himself, trying in vain to convince himself he wasn’t aroused by what he saw just now. He knew how drunken Feliks was, but when Belarus walked by… He shakes his head angrily. There’s no excuse! His precious Feliks just-!
He moans in despair and wonders how he can get Feliks out of there before Switzerland wakes up. He gets the feeling that the other nation will be back to his violent self, in the morning, and he really doesn’t want Poland to get hurt.