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Chapter Text

Russian Empire stepped out of the carriage, stretching his limbs until they gave a soft pop at the action. He had told Prussia months ago how he loathed the journey to his estate but Prussia had been merciless and Russia had caved after a while. Now, he wasn’t all that sad about it anymore. Berlin was not Saint Petersburg, sure, but Prussia had worked his hardest to make the city a place of culture and beauty and it had paid off.

It was dark. When they had come upon the last village outside Berlin his men had asked to take a break and wait until morning. Russia had declined. The church bells had rung for midnight about half an hour ago and the Prussian guards standing by the entrance looked at him curiously.

This was probably the most exciting thing to happen to them in the past few months and certainly more exciting than watching the snowflakes lazily fall to the ground. One of them turned around and entered the castle.

Russia waited outside, watching his own servants carry his baggage inside for him. As always, he had brought too much, but there were a few luxuries that he simply did not like living without.

When Prussia stepped outside, he had a coat wrapped around his shoulders that mostly covered the light nightgown he wore beneath. It was brown with dark fox fur lining the seams and looked heavy. The garment gave the impression that the king was more imposing than he usually presented himself.

Truly, Russian Empire could not understand how people were confused by his infatuation with the other man.

He walked up the steps to greet Prussia, whose expression was empty. Although a pleased smile began to tug at the left corner of his mouth when Russia sank to one of his knees to kiss the ring on Prussia’s little finger. “How gracious of you to greet me personally, my dear,” he murmured in Russian when he raised himself up again. He had caught a glimpse of the rope around Prussia’s wrist, a tight, brown one that Russia had gifted him shortly after their first time together.

Prussia made a little curtsey before turning around and leading Russian Empire into his palace. “You know it is in my nature, love. How has your journey been?” He reached back and Russia easily caught his hand, stepping closer so that it was less visible to Prussia’s servants.

Though, Russia guessed they were just happy that their master’s attention was on someone else for a change.

“As I have expected,” Russia responded, raising a brow when Prussia led him not to his personal but rather the guest chamber. “Have I insulted you?”

“You have not.” Prussia smiled, though there was still that hint of steel behind the expression that told Russian Empire more than enough. “No bandits or bad weather, then?”

“None whatsoever.” Russia closed the door behind both of them and fully turned to Prussia. “Why are you in such an irate mood?” he asked, his voice softer as he tried to enunciate the words in German.

Prussia sighed softly, his shoulders slumping as he leaned against the door. He rubbed at his left eye before pulling Russian Empire closer. It was a dark night either way but this way Russia blocked even the last rest of the moonlight from reaching Prussia. “I worry, my star,” he started, his voice low, “about this damn war with France. They are much too strong.”

Russia tilted his head to the side, slightly surprised by his lover’s use of a swear. “You do not even fight against them.”

“Don’t be naïve, Russia,” he responded swiftly. “They have been consistently gaining territory. Whether that be to their detriment or their success is yet to be determined but they will aspire to be the one who rules all of Europe.”

“All is not lost, my moon,” Russia murmured, cupping Prussia’s cheek and leaning down to kiss him. “You must trust me. I’ll be on your side.”

Some of the tension seeped out of Prussia’s bones as he leaned up into the kiss. “You are right.” He laughed quietly. “Did you know they seriously still want a celebration for the upcoming year? I tried pushing against it but my advisors were adamant.”

“Are you truly surprised?” Russia’s hands wandered to Prussia’s coat, unbuttoning it slowly as he continued talking. “People need to feel stability even if it is manufactured. By celebrating the new year, you’ll show them that despite the dire political climate, you stand strong.”

“Or I show them that their nobility is as callous as the French nobility was,” Prussia countered. “You know just as well as I do what they did to Kingdom of France. My head is very dear to me.”

Russian Empire laughed. “It is very dear to me also, my love.” He undid the last button and slid it off of Prussia’s shoulders. “Magnificent,” he breathed when he revealed Prussia’s wings. The nightgown he wore reached down to the middle of his thighs and was of delicate material, leaving little to the imagination. “You must be freezing in your sleep.”

“Focus,” Prussia admonished sternly, fighting the smile that was slowly spreading across his face. “I have a celebration to plan and economic as well as political issues to discuss with you.”

Russia hummed and captured Prussia’s lips in a deeper kiss. They hadn’t seen each other in much too long, and he placed all of the weeks of yearning in it until Prussia was pliant in his arms and fully responded to the affection. When they pulled apart, they were both panting. “Surely these discussions can wait until the morning.”

Prussia’s arms were wrapped around Russian Empire’s neck, where he tugged at the tsar’s light brown hair. “Perhaps,” he agreed. “However, this is not a visit of pleasure, as I have told you in my last letter. We can bask in each other when the most important business points are taken care of.”

“Oh, come on, Prussia. It is just one night.”

Suddenly, there was a hand on Russia’s throat, sharp talons digging into the sensitive skin. “You should know, I hate begging.” His voice was low and dangerous but they both knew that Prussia could never truly bring himself to hurt Russia.

“And you should know, this is not a deterrent,” Russia retorted, although he did take a step back when Prussia tightened his hold. “At least let us sleep in one bed, moon. I wish to grant you the peace you are missing.”

“The servants will talk if I spend the night with you.” Prussia let his hand drop. He was indeed shivering slightly, now that they did not share body heat anymore.

Russia snorted, looping his arms around Prussia’s waist and pulling him close again. “You never cared about that in my palace. My servants talk as much as yours do.” He brushed his lips against Prussia’s as he leaned down. “Let them think what they need to think, my dear. Let me love you.”

Prussia was tense for another moment or two, appraising Russian Empire with a critical eye, but then the months of separation seemed to catch up to him as well and he melted, nuzzling into the space beneath Russia’s jaw. “I apologise, love,” he whispered, “It seems I am more anxious than I expected.”

“I’m not angry with you.” Russia walked backwards until he felt the bed frame against his legs and sat down, pulling Prussia with him so the king straddled his lap, the nightgown riding up his thighs tantalisingly. “However, I do expect a proper apology.”

A soft laugh left Prussia’s mouth, and his wings ruffled as he tried to steady himself. He was blushing again, the colour making him look more vibrant than before. “Your wish is my command.” He leaned in to kiss Russia deeply, his left hand on the back of Russia’s head and his right resting against the side of his neck.

Russian Empire held Prussia tight by his waist until there was not a centimetre of space between them. Only their clothes separated them from each other and the barrier was almost too much for Russia to bear. However, Prussia had made it clear that he was not in the mood.

Prussia sighed into Russia’s mouth and all of the tsar’s complaints went out of the window. How could he even think of being disappointed when he had his love back in his arms? He pulled back slightly, placing some more fleeting kisses on Prussia’s face until that smile graced his lips again. “I missed you,” Russia confessed. “Seven months and all I could think of was holding you again.”

“I missed you too,” Prussia murmured, his arms sliding around Russia’s neck so he embraced him even closer. “It is unbelievable to me how slow time can pass when one is waiting for something.” He leaned back so he could look into Russia’s eyes. “I assure you, we will make up for the time we lost.”

Shaking his head, Russia shushed the other. “There is no need for any of that if you do not wish for it.”

“Oh, believe me,” Prussia chuckled, “I desperately want to. There are too many thoughts floating in my head currently for me to repose.” He kissed Russia again, capturing his bottom lip and biting it gently before soothing the sting with his tongue. “By the end of this week, we’ll lie together again.”

Russia laughed. “I’ll hold you to that, then.” He lifted Prussia off of himself, placing him on the soft mattress before standing so he could divest himself of his clothing.

Even though he did not look back at his lover, he felt Prussia’s gaze like a brand as he bared himself. Without the protective outer layer of the clothes, Russian Empire felt the cold of the German winter more directly but it was a good counterbalance against the heat boiling low in his groin.

“You look enchanting,” Prussia breathed. Russia looked back to meet his gaze and smiled. Prussia was taking in every detail, his eye reflecting the sparse moonlight and making him appear ethereal. “Come here.”

Without hesitation Russian Empire followed the prompt, sliding in beside Prussia and holding him close again. The connection was even more electric now that there was barely any barrier between them. “Close your eyes,” he whispered. “I have you. You can rest.”

He heard Prussia’s breath hitch in his chest. His heart squeezed with joy when the other did just as he was told. Russia took off Prussia’s patch and kissed the scar on his right eye. Then, he pulled the covers over both of them.

Another sigh left Prussia’s mouth and suddenly, Russia felt soft feathers caress the exposed skin of his upper body. They fell asleep in each other’s arms, content for the first time since they had last seen each other.

Russian Empire slept dreamlessly, waking up early the next morning before the sun had begun to rise. His arm had fallen asleep where Prussia was lying on it but the other man looked more peaceful than in the night and Russia could not bring himself to pull away.

Instead, he allowed himself to take in every detail in his lover’s expression. Prussia was frowning slightly, even in sleep, a testament to the toll the last war had taken on him. Russia could relate. France’s situation had disrupted the uneasy balance of powers in Europe and now it seemed like everything was falling apart.

At least they had each other. Truly, Russia could not ask for more. He brushed a strand of hair out of Prussia’s face before kissing his forehead. Prussia scrunched up his nose at the disruption and nuzzled closer into Russia’s embrace, mumbling something incoherent that had the other man chuckling.

“Wake up,” Russian Empire teased, his breath hot against Prussia’s ear. “I thought there was a very important day ahead for the both of us.”

Prussia blinked his eyes open and flinched back slightly when he realised how close Russia’s face was to his own. “Good morning,” he said, smiling sheepishly at his own reaction. “We do have a busy schedule. That does not mean we have to start so early.”

“It’s around six, judging from the position of the sun.”

“The sun is not even over the horizon,” Prussia complained but pushed himself up into a sitting position, glaring down at Russia who winked cheekily. “You are lucky that I occasionally enjoy your company.” Contrary to the harshness of his words, he traced the line of Russia’s face with a finger, most likely unaware that he was smiling as though he had everything he needed to find eternal happiness.

Russian Empire caught his wrist and brought the finger to his mouth to kiss it. “Lucky indeed,” he purred before following Prussia out of bed. He dug through the chest he had brought with for a fresh set of clothes and dressed as quickly as he had undressed the previous day.

When he next looked at Prussia, the other man was fully dressed as well. He stood in front of the mirror at the opposite end of the room, staring at his reflection with unseeing eyes. Russia stepped behind him, blanketing his back.

His hand wandered from Prussia’s waist up to his chin and tipped it up so that his head rested against Russia’s shoulder. “You are a magnificent man,” he murmured in his native tongue, “and your appearance only enhances my existimation.” His other hand encircled the bracelet on Prussia’s wrist, digging in slightly so the other had to feel every rough edge.

Prussia’s eyes fluttered shut as he relaxed against Russian Empire’s body. “Would you give me my patch?” he asked instead of dwelling on the compliment. However, Russia felt the heat in his cheeks and it was enough to satisfy him.

Russia carefully stepped away, making sure that Prussia did not lose his balance and retrieved the piece of fabric from the bedside table. “Should I tie it for you?”

“That would be kind of you.”

With permission, Russia reached up and placed the patch against the old injury, pulling the string taut and making a reef knot at the back of Prussia’s head. He had learned it ages ago when he had sailed with some Dutch merchants for a while and it was probably the only one he still remembered.

The king turned around, catching Russian Empire’s wrists before he could fully lower his arms. He kissed both of Russia’s palms gratefully. “Come,” he spoke quietly, “the sooner we get started on our work, the sooner it will be done.”

And so, they found themselves in the council room, the larger one that Prussia usually reserved for his whole assortment of advisors and not just Russian Empire. There were not even any guards with them which Russia did not point out was almost as conspicuous as them spending the night together.

He wondered how Prussia could still worry about that considering all that had already happened between them. Even a blind person would notice that the things they did together were not what they would do with just any ally or even any friend.

However, Prussia had already begun to fully focus on his current economic situation, which had suffered terribly under his last confrontation with France, and so Russia refrained from bringing it up. Instead, he came to stand beside Prussia and helped him sort through the notes that he had gathered from his advisors.

Many of them repeated the same facts with little additional information, making the whole process more tedious than educative but the task had a calming effect on Prussia.

Russia had forgone asking about the details of their talks, figuring that he’d come to know them one way or another. He doubted that they would linger on the topic of Prussia’s economy much longer than the first few hours as it was certainly not the most pressing matter. And, more importantly, it was not a matter that required Russia’s presence or attention.

They’d likely switch to more direct topics like what to do about France. An issue that Russian Empire was growing quite tired of, especially ever since he had withdrawn from the coalition October of that year. However, he had to admit that Prussia was right. Thinking that France would be happy with just the recent victories was naïve. They would push for more, had pushed for more already and proven both successful as well as resourceful in the past few years.

His prediction came true the second half of the day, when Prussia himself seemed to tire of the incessant repeat of their discussions. Russian Empire could not help it, though, there were very few ways you could take a conversation about economics, especially when they usually agreed on all points.

The hours of each day began bleeding into each other the longer the two worked and, though Russia logically knew that only about three days had passed, he could not help but feel like they had spent at least two weeks on it.

Of course, Russia knew that the discussions were important, not only to his lover – which would be reason enough usually to have him at full attention – but also to himself and his own people. It was simply difficult to try and concentrate on political happenings that were slightly removed from their current realities. Though that was mostly an excuse he gave himself. Mostly he just found it difficult to focus on something or someone other than Prussia.

After the partial success of his first night in Berlin, Russia had not received much attention from his lover, who, true to his own words, was consumed by all of his worries. It wasn’t that Russia could not empathise, but he was beginning to feel a little ridiculous when even the smallest touch was met with nothing more than a slight lean into it and then push away.

“Russia?” Prussia ripped said man from his thoughts. His right eyebrow was raised slightly, and Russia had the strange feeling that he probably had been talked to for the past minute at least.

“What is it?”

Prussia shook his head, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “I know the sun has set but, please, concentrate. We’re nearly done for today.”

Despite Prussia’s insistence, Russian Empire could not find it in himself to focus on the task at hand. The fact that the other was now ignoring him more apparently in favour of actually finishing the work did not help in the slightest.

The opposite was true. Now, all Russia could think about was how long it would take until Prussia’s attention was fully on him again.

As though to respond, Prussia snapped his fingers. A sharp sound, only amplified by the fact that he wore no gloves that could have muffled it. He was still looking at the papers in front of him, as though Russian Empire was an afterthought.

Russia smirked. He was sure that he could change that attitude around quickly. “Darling,” he purred as he stepped closer until there was barely any space between them. Prussia’s wings gave a little twitch at the sudden proximity before he pushed them out in an attempt to make Russia back off.

“Be quiet,” Prussia murmured, “I’m trying to read this.”

For a moment, Russian Empire did in fact fall silent, taking in Prussia’s profile and how intense his gaze was as he concentrated on his duties. What sort of man could deny the allure of his lover’s passion, even regarding a topic such as this? Was it truly so wrong that he wanted Prussia to look at him like this instead of his work? Russia did not think so.

Knowing another person inside and out came with the advantage that Russia knew exactly what buttons to push to bring out certain sides in his partner. Now, he had never endeavoured to make Prussia angry and not just because it was usually difficult to get him to that point. Prussia knew how to walk the line between irritation and unfiltered rage with a grace that only few others managed.

So, Russia could blame it on curiosity that he wanted to know what it took to push him past that point. It was helpful that the other man’s nerves were laid blank thanks to the political situation that affected all of them in one way or another.

Sometimes, getting to know someone required effort in a direction said someone would dissuade one from pursuing. Luckily, this was not enough to stop Russia. The patch was tied with a more secure knot than the one he had used but Russia had watched Prussia tie it earlier and he knew exactly how to unravel it. Before he could think better of it, Russian Empire had reached out, pulled the left string and it came loose, drifting to the floor with no sound at all.

Prussia froze, and Russia wondered whether he had sparked off an entirely different reaction than planned. When Prussia whirled around, wings flaring out in an unconscious symbol of dominance and intimidation, Russia knew it had worked.

How fascinating it was to see those handsome features contorted by anger. Russian Empire had seen the expression before but never this close, never directed at him as a person instead of a nation. He opened his mouth but all words left him when Prussia suddenly pressed him up against the wall with surprising strength.

Of course, Russia knew that Prussia kept in shape but he forgot more often than not that the other had spent more time fighting and training than any nation he had ever known personally. The reminder came with the intense, painful pressure of Prussia’s arm against his sternum.

“You’re hurting me,” Russian Empire gasped, mostly out of curiosity how Prussia would react in this state. The pain was really not bothering him, in fact he felt a stirring in his groin that he was sure had not been his lover’s intention.

It seemed that Prussia still knew how to surprise Russia for his response was to lean forward until the pain had Russia seeing stars. “Good.” His voice had transformed as well. It was a growl, unlike anything Russia had ever heard from him. Almost... animalistic. Now, they truly mirrored each other.

Never in his life had Russian Empire felt so connected to someone. Then again, he had never been in a position like this before. Only now did he realise that he had still not raised his arms to push Prussia away, to relieve the tension. He did it now as the instinctual panic response in his brain finally activated.

Even though Russia was stronger than his lover, it took quite a bit of effort to push him off. When he managed it, he heaved air into his lungs and suppressed a pained groan. Would this bruise? A part of Russia hoped it would. A bigger part wondered whether Prussia would love it as much as he would.

“Stop pestering me.”

Russian Empire leaned forward, right into Prussia’s personal space. The other man did not even seem to notice, his left eye twitching with irritation. Russia smirked. “It is much too easy to rile you up, my love, don’t take it to heart.”

There was a moment of charged silence before Prussia let out a soft chuckle. It was not mirthful and his expression was still as intense as previously. “Wait in my room and, by God, if your clothes are not folded properly, I’ll have you walk back to your palace in Saint Petersburg without them.”

The smirk on Russia’s face widened slightly but he did as he was told, walking out of the room they had been in for much too long that day and towards Prussia’s bedchamber. There he took off his clothes carefully, inspecting his chest in the mirror when he had freed his upper body. The place where Prussia’s arm had rested against him was red and he could see the indents where the buttons of his overcoat had been.

Over the course of the last decade of their relationship, Russia had found out just how tidy Prussia liked his spaces to be. A sort of hypocritical attitude since the desk in his study was nearly always sheer chaos, even if Prussia claimed it was not. If a bit of tidiness was all it would take to appease his lover, then he would not complain.

Once he was fully nude, Russian Empire settled on the bed. The air was a little cold but nothing compared to the winters in his own territories, merely enough to have his skin prickle a little. He waited longer than he had expected and realised that this was probably the true ‘punishment’ Prussia had thought out for him.

He reached down to his crotch, palming his soft dick until it began to show interest. At least now he wouldn’t have to worry about France and their idiotic rise to power that had been nagging Prussia so. Instead, his thoughts went down a more pleasant path.

During their last meeting Prussia had allowed Russia to have him dressed in more traditional Russian clothing. Russian Empire adored European culture but seeing the other man so comfortable with the customs of his own had made him fall even deeper in love with him.

Besides, Prussia had told him that he also enjoyed wearing dresses and while Russia had never much found appeal in the wide skirts – they just meant he could not be as close to Prussia as he would like to – he could not deny that Prussia had looked magnificent.

Certainly, the memories alone were enough that he was half-hard by the time the door opened and Prussia slipped in. It seemed he was still conscious of the fact that there were curious staff inside his castle who would be talking of Russia sitting naked on their queen’s bed.

Russian Empire grinned when Prussia took in his form, though noted with a hint of disappointment that Prussia did not look as affected as he would usually. There was no blush on his cheeks and instead he met Russia’s eyes with disapproval.

Still, Russia could not deny that seeing his lover in such pure enragement did nothing to disrupt his libido. He made to move off the bed to meet Prussia in the middle of the room but the other pushed him back onto it without even looking at him.

“Love, what—?”

“Silent,” Prussia snapped as though talking to a common mutt instead of another person. His voice was tight and Russian Empire realised that he was genuinely shaking in anger. Like he was still deciding whether to maul Russia or if there was a more appropriate punishment.

While Russia valued his life quite a bit, he was curious how far he had brought Prussia. Would he be willing to actually harm him? And if he did, when would he start feeling guilty? Immediately after or only hours later?

For now, though, he felt comfortable simply watching Prussia undress for him. The other did not bother to do it slow or sensually in any way, but that did not stop Russian Empire from admiring the creature he called his own. Before long, Prussia was naked as well, the only thing remaining on his body was the piece of rope around his wrist, his wings fluttering slightly outward when Russia moved and the sheets rustled underneath him.

“Lay down properly,” Prussia commanded in the same voice he usually reserved for his soldiers during military training exercises in the courtyard. Russia had been attracted to it while watching those but directed at him it had an even more potent effect.

He shuffled down until his head met the pillow and then positioned himself slightly more in the middle of the bed until the scrutiny in Prussia’s eyes vanished and he turned away again. Russia studied Prussia’s form while he opened the nightstand and pulled out the small jar of gel he had gifted him upon Prussia’s departure during his last visit to the palace in Saint Petersburg.

Prussia had opened it somewhen during the past half year and about a fifth of it was missing. Russian Empire opened his mouth to tease but in that very moment Prussia glared at him so witheringly that the words died on his tongue.

Russia had thought Prussia beautiful ever since their first meeting, even though Prussia had surely not felt the same back then. However, this was the cherry on top. Something about pestering Prussia until the more honest parts were brought to light in all their ugly glory made Russia feel even more possessive. As though he was being blessed by this trust.

His thoughts were disturbed when Prussia straddled his legs. The sudden skin to skin contact was a shock to Russian Empire’s overheated body and his hands flew down to Prussia’s thighs in an effort to ground himself.

Prussia tutted disapprovingly. “Keep them up, my dear. You’ll touch me exactly how I allow you to,” he explained, his tone almost clinical in its precision, “and presently, you do not deserve to touch me at all.” Russia opened his mouth to protest or at least ask for an explanation but Prussia shushed him before he had the chance to. “Don’t make me gag you. I would enjoy myself only half as much if I did not hear your moans,” he said flatly.

The tsar’s mouth snapped shut, his eyes wide with fascination. If he wasn’t so distracted by the fact that he was now most definitely turned on, Russian Empire would love to analyse every single part of Prussia’s behaviour down to the smallest detail. Experiment to the fullest extent until Prussia’s soul was visible to his mortal eyes and he could truly know the other man.

Then again, he supposed he could do that at a later point in time, Russia conceded when Prussia dipped his fingers into the jar and brought his hand to his own backside. The movement seemed practiced, methodical, as if it was a necessary evil instead of something one did to enjoy themselves. If anything, Prussia somehow managed to make it appear less like something sensual. His fingers moved without hurry but with a clear determination to an end goal.

Was this how Prussia usually masturbated? Closed off, shameless in its certainty but shameful at a deeper level? Russian Empire’s instinct negated it. This seemed like a performance with exaggerated lines. Even in his most shameful moments Prussia usually let a noise or two slip. Now, he was silent, his eyes open as he stared down at Russia. Like he wasn’t even fully enjoying it or at least pretending not to.

However, there was this glint in his gaze. The one that spoke of wit or perhaps mischief. Prussia knew exactly what he was doing, the effect he was having on Russia, and he was revelling in it.

So engrossed was Russia in his observations that when Prussia did moan – three fingers inside and most likely stretched enough already – he first registered the fluttering of his wings, the short moment his eyes became more glazed and the opening of his mouth instead of the sound itself.

The physical aspects of their impending union became apparent to him only now. How they were both breathing heavily and the thin sheen of sweat where their bodies were already connected to each other. The colour of Prussia’s iris was burned so deeply into Russia’s mind that when he shut his eyes for a moment, he still saw it on the insides of his lids.

Russian Empire opened his eyes when there was a sudden cold draft against the skin that Prussia had occupied before. The king had risen to his knees, drying his fingers with a handkerchief that Russia had not noticed previously. Then, his hand encircled Russia’s cock, stroking him slowly back to full hardness.

A moan ripped itself from Russia’s throat as his eyes rolled back into his head. He had been so absorbed that he had forgotten where this whole situation was supposed to lead, where he had wanted it to lead before Prussia’s mood had enraptured him. Had he never been touched that day, he would not even have noticed.

Even so, now that he was once again reminded of how he was affected, Russia was suddenly very glad for the touch. It seemed to him as though Prussia’s show had doubled the time that they had spent apart, making Russia even more vulnerable and sensitive to another’s touch.

Prussia placed a hand on Russia’s chest as he let the head of Russia’s cock slip inside. The sudden warmth and pressure were so intense after having been rejected for so long that Russia bucked his hips up. His entire body was shaking with the need to turn their positions around, pin Prussia beneath his weight and have his way with him.

He was too curious, though. Russia pocketed the urge for another time, wanting to see how this would play out, where Prussia would take their rendezvous with new roles for both of them to adapt to.

His lover sunk down unbelievably slowly. Prussia did not care as much to mask his reactions, clearly savouring the feeling of Russia inside of him, being so connected after only sparse contact in letters and perhaps fantasies.

Russia felt comfortable watching it unfold for now. He had breathed through the near overwhelming sensitivity, though the longer Prussia dragged it out – not for any good reason besides wanting to tease Russia or test his patience – the more intense it grew again. Every time he made to speak up, Prussia shushed him again, arousal and irritation warring to be the more prominent emotion on his features.

Finally, after Prussia had hovered just above Russia’s pelvis for nearly a minute, Russia reached down to his waist in order to bring him down and end the torment that was being inflicted upon him.

“If you are as smart as you always claim, my star,” Prussia ground out as he sunk fully onto Russia’s cock, “then your hands will stay exactly where I told you to keep them.”

Before Russian Empire had even fully registered the command, his hands flew back up next to his head. His eyes were wide as he watched his lover take control. He had never seen Prussia like this. With this strange confidence that seemed to cause a wild array of feelings in Russia’s loins.

Prussia stayed still for a moment, his eyes closed as he took in the feeling of them both connected. Russia’s own gaze was fixed on the sight right before him, though it turned a little fuzzy around the edges when Prussia raised himself, keeping balance with his wings, and began to move in a steady, almost languid rhythm that was nearly as painful as Prussia keeping completely still.

As Prussia began to establish a proper rhythm, the feeling turned into a true delight. He was tight and warm, clenching around Russia’s cock when it grazed his prostate and made him even more sensitive. He was still not making many noises, and Russia could not tell whether it was the change in position or the anger still etched deeply into his face that brought about this circumstance.

Usually, Russia would tease Prussia with his hands and mouth if he decided that the other was not making enough sounds for his satisfaction, but given his position and the threats Prussia had hissed – and his own curiosity, which was probably the only thing that truly kept this new power structure intact – there were not many options he had to make Prussia more vocal.

Russia had clearly underestimated the natural effect Prussia had on him as he felt himself inching ever closer to release. He was thinking of merely blaming it on being more sensitive after not laying with anyone for quite some time, but this was hardly the first time their duties had forced them apart for so long.

No, his fascination and love for Prussia had driven him here. To this point, where he was teetering on the edge of orgasm because Prussia rode him for nothing but his own pleasure. Perhaps it was unhealthy that the less Prussia thought of Russia’s satisfaction, the more he enjoyed it. Perhaps it was the thought that despite seemingly not caring for Russia in this very moment, Russia felt the love pouring from Prussia’s every twitch and sigh.

Prussia never picked up the pace as he continued, but eventually he leaned back, one hand grasping Russia’s thigh behind himself as he changed the angle with a sweet moan. Suddenly, he was being much more open and vocal, even allowing a few whines to slip when he rose too high and Russia’s cock nearly slipped from his hole.

The noise had Russian Empire choking on the air and he realised with a start that he was about to come. He opened his mouth just as Prussia slowed into deeper grinds instead of the strokes it had been before.

As though Prussia knew exactly what he was about to say, he smirked, his right hand pushing down on his chest with more insistence before he dragged his talons down across Russia’s skin. “You are free to follow your body’s judgement, my dear,” he purred, seeming unaffected besides his voice sounding slightly breathier than usually.

The first sensation of the orgasm was a shock to Russia’s system. It left him with a vision of white for several seconds during which heat travelled up his spine. And then, a bit of panic set in when he was still shaking from his release and Prussia just kept moving up and down like he had trained for this moment alone.

“Prussia,” he choked, his voice faltering into a moan when Prussia lightly dug his talons into Russia’s thigh in response. Russia repeated the other man’s name in a slightly more distraught voice, his heart stumbling over itself when Prussia smiled indulgently but did not stop. There was something mean and terribly satisfied in his expression.

“What?” he mocked, his voice light and seemingly unaffected by the pleasure that was no doubt chasing through his body as well. Russia knew how much the other liked the feeling when Russia came inside of him. “Can’t you take it, my star? Is this too much for you?”

Russia bucked up to make Prussia lose his balance. It did not work as those sharp talons dug harder into the sensitive skin of his abdomen, making his poor cock twitch back to life only mere moments after spending itself.

Despite everything, the mockery and the unexpected reversal of their usual roles, or perhaps because of it, Russia could not bring himself to tell Prussia to stop. Underneath the physical sensation of nearly painful sensitivity, there was that interest that had made him fall for the German king in the first place and he would regret it the rest of his life if he let such a good opportunity go to waste because of his body’s limitations.

And that was ignoring that his body was already fully invested in their coupling again. He let his head fall backward, exposing his throat as his eyes fluttered shut. “I’m all yours,” he breathed, his words punctuated by the moans that poured from his lungs so freely.

The smile that broke over Prussia’s features was unkind and all the more attractive for it. “Indeed, you are,” he murmured as he leaned down to bite at Russia’s collarbone. He barely held back, his teeth carving a painting into Russia’s skin, and the tsar’s gasps of agonised enjoyment were only encouragement.

Russia approached the next orgasm even faster. His body being driven to overstimulation was not helped by the fact that Prussia now felt much more comfortable hurting him. Of course, this was mostly due to the tsar begging for it with every limited movement and word he dared.

His skin was starting to bloom in all sorts of different colours as Prussia explored the difference of the bruises on the flag that was presented before him. A bite into a white pectoral muscle there, right around the pink nipple, and Prussia’s head cocked to the side as he watched the first colour spread. Then, next, digging into the golden swirls around Russia’s hip with his full hand, as though Prussia was trying to crush the bone beneath.

The tsar was torn between noticing the intensity of Prussia’s actions in their own right or the intensity of his focus. Everything he did to satisfy his thirst for knowledge fuelled Russia’s own. The dichotomy between being both subject of Prussia’s attention and yet irrelevant when it came to considering their needs was almost as intoxicating as the feeling of Prussia lying down atop him so he could suck a hickey into the black skin beneath Russia’s ear.

Prussia's wings spread over them both, feathers brushing Russia’s sensitive sides and caressing them in a way that seemed too accidental to be genuine. Yet another action to make Russia feel smaller, prey in Prussia’s nest, and it had the intended effect.

It was getting too much ever so slowly. Russian Empire felt like Prussia was more fucking with his mind than anything else and a part of him was genuinely confused why he was still so aroused that most of his pleas were not for less but for more of the same torment.

His hand twitched downward to Prussia’s body. Maybe to stop him, maybe to make him move faster. He wasn’t sure, and interrupted the movement before even touching his partner, but it was too late. The slap was so loud that for a moment, Russia did not even register the pain racing through his left cheek where Prussia had struck him.

He turned his head back to his host, biting his lip to fight against the grin pulling his mouth up. “That’s all?” he couldn’t help but tease. Russia regretted it only shortly after when Prussia came to an abrupt halt, leaning down until their noses were almost touching.

“Behave,” he growled, a noise that sent a very delicious shiver down Russian Empire’s spine. “Or, I’ll tie you up and leave you here for my guards to find you.”

A part of Russia was eager to keep teasing just to find out whether Prussia would follow through with his threat but his orgasm was close and if Prussia did not bluff then it’d be a very unpleasant end of this evening. “Pardon me, love,” he murmured, his eyes flicking down to Prussia’s lips. “It won’t happen again.”

“I’m sure it won’t.” Prussia’s voice was still steely but his expression relaxed slightly and he leaned down to meet Russia’s lips, licking over them in what could be called a silent apology. Then, he straightened up again and raised himself on shaking thighs.

The sudden friction was like the purest form of heaven after the short interruption, and Russia threw his head back as he moaned. His hands gripped the headboard of the bed in an attempt to keep them in place even if his entire being begged to hold Prussia close and show his appreciation.

They were both nearing release this time. Russia could feel it in the way his entire body tensed, overstimulated, and he was unable to relax, certainly not with Prussia still moving so sensually above him. And there was the telltale sign of twitching in Prussia’s wings, trying to spread before they folded back against his back, that always seemed to precede the other’s orgasms.

“My moon,” he gasped at a particularly harsh downward thrust of Prussia’s hips. He wasn’t quite begging but the unspoken plea was impossible to miss even for the man atop him.

Prussia’s hand came down to clamp over Russia’s mouth, making him fall silent rather abruptly. He had clearly reached the limit of his patience, something else that had never happened in Russia’s presence before.

He slowed again but this time it was not deliberate as he picked the tempo back up without even looking at Russia. Prussia’s eye lids fluttered before he closed them tightly, biting his lower lip as he sunk fully down anew, his own cock spurting over Russian Empire’s chest as he came. His orgasm looked agonising, painful but the soft sounds that hummed through his closed mouth were evidence enough of the opposite.

Russia held out for a few moments, mostly to watch the beauty in Prussia coming undone above him, but then he came for a second time that evening, exhausted but very satisfied. For a moment they remained in a state of limbo, suspended in time, holding their positions as though they had not ended up like this only because of their own choices.

Then, Prussia raised himself up and off the bed, his legs shaking and tired but his expression much calmer than previously. He stretched while keeping eye contact, letting his wings reach their full length before turning away from the bed. Russian Empire followed his movement through the bedroom with half-lidded eyes, too busy catching his breath to do any more.

His throat felt raw and parched, even though he had not been particularly loud. Prussia left into the bathroom, where, if Russia remembered correctly, he had his servants fill the tub with water earlier that day. Though Russia doubted that this was the use he had originally foreseen for it.

While Prussia was busy with whatever he was doing, Russia slowly sat up, rolling his shoulders to alleviate the ache of holding his arms in place. Now, he truly understood Prussia’s complaints of having muscle aches after their usual nights. He decided that he’d be a little more attentive next time.

The door opened again and Prussia stepped inside, looking much more put together. He had tied his hair into a neater ponytail, washed his face and slipped on the patch over his blind eye. When his gaze caught Russia’s body, still uncovered and put on display, there was a mix of satisfaction and concern on his face.

He walked forward slowly, raising a soft towel in silent question. Russia leaned his head to the side, his smile small but inviting. Prussia smiled back a little sheepishly, his cheeks filling with colour. It was endearing how he could not keep up the façade now that he had gotten through the worst of his anger.

Russian Empire was quite glad that Prussia did not issue an apology, even if others might have deemed it necessary for the situation. But Russia hoped he had made it very apparent in the last decade that if he did not want something, he would say so. “You surprise me,” he murmured when Prussia began cleaning the mess from Russia’s chest.

“I do?” The blush travelled from his cheek bones to his ears and Prussia ducked his head as to avoid meeting Russia’s gaze. There was a content smile on his lips but otherwise he was back to his usual self. Russian Empire was almost disappointed that his time of exploration had come to an end so soon, but mostly he was relieved. As much as he loved Prussia when he acted on his negative emotions, it was comforting to see him more at ease now.

Russia hummed in confirmation, catching Prussia’s wrist and pulling him forward until their faces were inches apart. “You are incredibly attractive when you decide to take charge,” he continued, his voice almost a growl, “but next time you’ll dance to my tune, understood?”

Prussia smiled. He still refused to meet Russian Empire’s eyes but he seemed to enjoy the challenge. “We’ll see, my tsar,” he responded blithely.

He continued to clean Russia and himself before covering his naked body with a midnight blue robe, much to Russia’s displeasure, and leaving the room with a quick promise that he’d come back soon.

While waiting Russia laid back down more comfortably. Now that the passion had made way for something gentler the winter’s cold crept into his bones, and he covered himself with the heavy blankets that Prussia liked more than he himself did. He preferred the furs he had back at home instead of the down-filled blankets that Prussia slept beneath.

They could probably create those blankets with Prussia’s own downs but Russia was not entirely sure whether Prussia would agree to it. The thought was intriguing though. If Russia could fill a small pillow with the other man’s downy feathers, then he’d always have him by his side no matter how far apart they were.

It sounded a little eerie even to himself and Russia discarded the thought for the time being when Prussia pushed the door open, a tray with fresh tea and sliced pears in his hands. “Oh, you’re treating me today,” Russia mumbled appreciatively. His voice was rough and he saw how Prussia straightened his posture as he heard it.

Good to know that his effect on Prussia had not diminished because of this stunt. It would have truly ruined his good mood, even if he had discovered much more about the other than he had expected when he started his journey in Saint Petersburg earlier that month.

A small grin was Prussia’s answer as he set the tray down and rested on the edge of the bed. It was quiet for longer than necessary. Russian Empire felt that Prussia was trying to sort his thoughts and gave him the space to think without any interruption. He watched the king play with the rope around his wrist, dragging it against his skin in a way that had to burn at least a little bit.

Meanwhile, Russia took one of the pear slices and ate it slowly. He had spent most of the evening thinking and analysing, so he was feeling comfortable in taking a break now. When Prussia turned around to face him, Russia met his eye. “What tea is that?”

“Chamomile,” Prussia answered after taking another second to inspect Russia’s expression. “It may not have steeped long enough. I attempted to be swift.” He poured some into a fragile looking porcelain cup with herbs painted on the sides.

Russia took the cup from his partner’s grip and shrugged. “You have lemons, have you not? I can just add some if the taste is not strong enough.” He propped himself up on his elbow and took a sip. As Prussia had said, it was not as flavourful as he usually enjoyed it but it was still very calming. He watched over the rim of his cup as Prussia poured himself one. “Do you not prefer rooibos tea?”

Prussia nodded slowly. “I do,” he confirmed. “However, I enjoy indulging in the tastes that you like best.”

They drank slowly, eating a few bites of fruit in between while they both kept mostly quiet. Russian Empire talked a little of the developments in his own capital as they had not had time to share more personal details of their time apart.

By the time they were both done, the sun had fully sunken and made way for night. Prussia lit a few oil lamps before shedding the robe. His wings thanked him for the freedom by puffing up. Then, he slid in beside Russian Empire and covered him with his left wing again. “Was I too harsh?” he whispered as though afraid how his words would carry if he spoke any louder. His fingers traced the red welts he had left on Russia’s chest, feeling the shudder that raced through Russia’s body at the sensation.

Russia laughed quietly, arching slightly into the touch that made his hair stand on end in a good way. “I might not crave the pain as much as you do, dear, but I revel in it just as intensely.” He kissed Prussia gently, cupping his cheek. “It makes me feel... comfortable.”

There was a moment of silence that seemed tenser than before. “You want it to hurt,” Prussia realised. Something in his voice made Russia perk up with interest, small but noticeable as though he had screamed it. As though he was pained by the reminder. His eyes were wide and Russian Empire’s gaze caught in the way the skin around his scar stretched with the movement.

He just looked at Prussia, his head cocked to the side as though he was merely a curious observer rather than the subject of Prussia’s shock. Russia had to admit, it was quite satisfying to know how to make the other speechless in such simple terms. He didn’t answer and, eventually, Prussia continued.

“You want it to hurt so you don’t have to feel guilty that you like it.”

A wave of cold surprise flooded Russian Empire’s veins. His eyes went from half-lidded to wide without his control. He hadn’t quite expected Prussia to make the connection, and he had expected even less that his own reaction would be so visceral. He was laid bare, his being turned inside out for Prussia’s eyes to harvest upon.

“That’s why you like it too, is it not?” he answered eventually, trying to distract from the fact he had tensed up all of the sudden.

“No, Russia. I may have some issues but I do not feel guilty about enjoying you.” Prussia’s gaze was heavy on him and for the first time since they had first lain like this, Russia did not find satisfaction in the feeling. Prussia turned Russia’s head so they looked into each other’s eyes. He smiled tightly but it didn’t reach his eyes like it would normally.

Russian Empire made a wounded noise and closed his eyes for a moment before feeling ready to meet Prussia’s again. “I don’t owe these feelings to you, my moon, I promise you,” he began quietly, trying to put as much sincerity in the words as he possibly could. “They have kept me company for as long as I can remember.”

Prussia nodded slowly. “I believe you.” Russia felt a weight lift from his shoulders that he hadn’t known was there in the first place. “However, there is nothing you have to feel guilty of, do you hear me?”

“Knowing it and feeling it are two disparate acts,” Russia responded, covering Prussia’s hand on his cheek with his own. “There is nothing you can say that will alter me so fundamentally.”

“I do not desire you to change.” Prussia frowned slightly, as though he was upset that Russia would even insinuate it. “Ever.”

Russia smiled, a little amused by his lover’s insistence. “Neither do I.” He caressed Prussia’s cheekbone with his thumb until the frown vanished from his features.

The century ended in a ballroom with at least a hundred people in one room. Russian Empire had long ago lost sight of who even attended the event. Many guests had arrived about a week before, resting in other nobles’ houses, in Prussia’s guest chambers and some less picky guests even chose the fancier taverns down in the town.

It was bright and loud inside the hall. The mood was overall merry even though it was not midnight yet and the festivities had started early around midday. With a military parade because, of course, Prussia had to ensure that his people were still aware of his military might – even if he had lost the last war he’d been involved in.

Russia had been quite endeared by the display, especially after remembering that particular night a couple of weeks ago. As he had expected, the knowledge of how Prussia could take control in the bedroom if he so chose had much enhanced the display for Russian Empire. If he was not such a possessive creature, he’d feel bad for all of those soldiers who knew their king only this one way.

However, intimacy was rarely shared if one knew Russia and so, he was simply satisfied that when Prussia turned to face Russia, standing at a respectful distance for an ally and smirking, his eyes dark, the king flushed a lovely shade of pink and averted his gaze again. They both knew how powerful this thing between them was.

Luckily, Russia had been able to set the loathsome high collared suits aside only two days after the whole ordeal since most of the bruises above his collarbone had been lighter than expected, or were inconspicuous enough that no one would question them too much. Prussia had admired them when they had awoken the very next morning, the blue on Russia’s white skin, the red and oranges on golden skin and the stark purples on black. He hadn’t said anything, merely applied healing salve to the most egregious spots, but it had been in his gaze. The ferocity of a hunter, the avidity of a rich man and, also, the gentleness of a lover.

Now, Russia was happily mingling with the crowd inside. The air was stuffy but not uncomfortable enough that he wished to leave. If anything, it added to the atmosphere inside the hall. He felt like floating, like pulling in a stranger to dance or maybe to flirt with someone until they smiled. Or perhaps he preferred doing that last one with a particular gentleman he had lost sight of a couple of hours ago.

The point remained the same, though. Russia felt quite comfortable and despite having spent several hours on his feet and dancing with multiple strangers, he was still full of energy as though the date itself forbade anything other than cheer until they left the 18th century behind and tumbled into the next.

Prussia’s presence certainly helped, even if they were currently at opposing ends of the hall. At least that was where Russian Empire assumed the other man was. They had been dancing when they had last seen each other and then Königsberg, dressed in a brilliant green dress that Russia had rightfully complimented her for, had convinced Prussia that it would be unreasonable – and quite obvious – if he refused to spend this grand day with no one besides Russia.

Only when Russian Empire had agreed and pushed him towards his friends had Prussia parted from his side. It was reassuring that Prussia had accepted Russia’s claim on him with such ease and still gravitated towards him when it came down to it.

There was only one issue; he was starting to miss his dearest now that midnight grew ever closer. It wasn’t that he needed Prussia by his side just for the moment that the centuries changed but... No, that was exactly what he needed; Prussia pressed up against him real tight until there was not a millimetre of air between them so that Russia knew the other was exactly where he belonged.

He was quite sure that Prussia would have similar thoughts regarding this topic and so he eased his mind with the reminder that it was still half an hour until the bells would chime and the new year would greet them. They would find each other before that point and seek out a quiet spot to indulge in each other, both in innocent ways and... not so innocent ones.

To distract himself from the image of Prussia tied up and begging for his mercy, skin even darker than his flag made it, Russian Empire approached a group of young aristocrats. Judging by their dialects they were not from the centre of Prussia’s territories, some perhaps even from Hesse, though his knowledge of German dialects was severely limited. All he could really identify was whether a person was from around the capital or not.

They looked at him with surprise, certainly not having expected the tsar to approach them. One of the ladies, a young woman with blonde curls, wearing a red dress with golden embroidery, quickly curtseyed and Russia gave her the hand to let her kiss it.

The other two, another woman and a man, both with light brown hair, mirrored her behaviour and once they had all risen, Russia bowed his head to pay back the respect he had been given. “I hope I am not interrupting,” he rumbled, smiling slightly in an effort to get the humans to calm down slightly. Surely, this was not the first time that they had seen one of the representations, right?

“Not at all, Your Majesty,” the man hurried to reassure him, visibly taking a deep breath as to ease his own nerves. The brown-haired woman did the same while the blonde woman only watched the tsar curiously. She seemed to be less intimidated than the other two and received the kindest grin from Russia.

“Are the festivities enjoyable?” he asked them, letting his gaze sweep the mass of people in hopes of glimpsing at black feathers. But even with his height, the hall was so full and colourful that it was practically impossible to see anything besides what was in his immediate vicinity.

“Very much so,” the blonde woman answered, nodding enthusiastically. She told him that this was the very first big event that she had been invited to, now accompanying her fiancée and his sister. The latter information piqued Russia’s interest enough to look at the trio again.

The plighted lovers seemed amicable towards each other and quite respectful as well but Russia had a sense for passion and it was clear to him that the two were not in love with each other. Then again, only few married or soon-to-be married couples were in love. The main goal of marriage was not to show who you were bound to by heart, just who you were bound to by societal contract.

Russian Empire had often thought about whether he would marry Prussia but, in the end, had always decided against it. The emotional connection between them would not be elevated by a contract that was basically meaningless. And, their differing religious beliefs would certainly be another hurdle that Russia preferred not to have to worry about.

No, he knew that Prussia belonged to him and vice versa. That would have to be enough. It was enough, for now.

As Russia continued asking question, the siblings thawed and began speaking as openly to him as the woman in red. Several times, Russia asked them to speak a little slower because he couldn’t keep up with their dialects but it was an enjoyable conversation. Russia had forgotten how soothing it was to speak to the youth.

Old people, those advisors and nobles with human life spans who were closer to their death than their births, they were so pessimistic and always complained about everything, especially in Prussia’s territories. But young people? They looked at the future like it was all theirs to mould. They were right, of course. The world belonged to the young, no matter how much the old screamed and cried about it.

He spotted Prussia about fifteen minutes to midnight. Prussia was glaring at nobody, his teeth pressed so tightly against each other that Russian Empire got a headache from looking at the other man. He sighed quietly, not loud enough to carry above the cacophony of the hall but loud enough for the three young nobles to catch it. They looked at him, curiosity burning in their eyes but his focus had shifted away from them already.

Russian Empire watched his lover for a while as he walked through the crowds, not really seeing anything as he thought only about whatever had angered him so greatly. His wings were pressed tightly against his back as though he was making himself smaller, or getting ready to explode. He was so deep in thought that Russia was growing concerned he would not find his way to him after all. He whistled sharply, receiving some odd looks from the humans standing around him.

More importantly, however, was that Prussia’s head snapped up like a dog being called by its name. His gaze found Russia’s as though by pure instinct. He pushed through the crowd without taking notice of the people’s reactions to him, that gleam of fury still visible in the blue of his seeing eye.

Before Russia had a chance to say anything or even introduce him, Prussia grabbed his arm and pulled him away, giving the three humans a bright smile that did not appear genuine in the slightest. Russia stumbled for a few steps before finding his footing and covering Prussia’s hand on his arm, trying to appear more like they were allies than a couple about to do something obscene. “Prussia?”

“I need my mouth to be busy with something other than talking to any of these people,” Prussia spit in Russian, and the tsar nearly choked on his next inhale. Prussia himself seemed not to have taken notice of the vulgarity underlying his words. Or at the very least he seemed not to be ashamed by it as he did not react to them any further.

No one had heard the remark and Russia doubted that they would have understood if they had but it was still much too explicit for a place such as this. He followed Prussia away from the crowd, not bothering to put in a word of rebuke. It wasn’t like he had much enjoyed the conversation he just held anyway and the prospect of what Prussia had just said interested his cock greatly.

They were barely out of the doors when Prussia already attempted to pull Russian Empire into a kiss that the other denied him with a squeeze at his waist. He knew how proper Prussia liked to pretend to be – at least in front of the more polite society and his own staff – and no matter what his thoughts on it were currently, Prussia would surely regret the public display the moment he had calmed down somewhat.

“Not here, Borussia,” Russia spoke quickly and quietly, trying to convey a sense of urgency that Prussia would register even through the haze of rage and instinct that dictated his actions at the current moment.

Prussia snarled, grabbing Russian Empire’s wrist so tightly that he nearly cut off the blood flowing down to Russia’s fingers. He did not argue back, which was definitely unusual. Then again, Prussia had been acting a little unusual during Russia’s whole stay thus far so he should definitely not be all too surprised. He wondered whether Prussia had even understood Russia’s words or if the rejection alone had changed his mind to bring them both to a more private location.

The other acted more animal than man, enhanced by the fact that his wings were flared out slightly as if trying to scare off anyone who would want to approach either of them. And it was working; the few guards and servants they passed stared at their master with wide eyes but quickly averted their gazes so they would not become subject to his rage.

They wouldn’t anyway. Prussia’s sole focus was on Russian Empire, even his quest down the corridors was simply so he could get Russia to comply with whatever he wanted at the moment. And while that would sound like a nightmare to most people – having Prussia’s entire attention could be deadly even if he was not irate beyond reason – it was exactly what Russia desired. There was nothing quite like making the other man forget that there was a world besides the obsession that drove them both towards each other.

Russia did not attempt to speak. Whatever spell his lover was under went beyond words and their meaning. How interesting. Prussia was a well-spoken man and the discussions the both of them had regularly, both in person and in their letters, most philosophical in nature, would only be half as interesting if one of them could not articulate their thoughts properly.

Finding new ways of shutting that part of Prussia’s brain up, the one that could talk Russia into believing anything if he set his mind to it, was like a forbidden fruit. There was physical pleasure and the pain Prussia associated with said pleasure, and now there was anger. Unfiltered, single-minded. It was so incredibly attractive that Russia had to remind himself to breathe.

And it was all for him. The emotion had overwhelmed Prussia and the person he turned to immediately was Russia, even though Brandenburg was arguably more adept at handling Prussia’s emotional outbursts, however rare they were. But Prussia had come to him and now he was holding onto Russia like he was Prussia’s last line connecting him to sanity.

Perhaps he was. Russia liked to think there was a little more between them though, and he was pretty sure there was. Not in this moment specifically, with Prussia looking like he’d rip a man’s throat out with his bare teeth. It was possible, Russia had seen it, though he wasn’t particularly looking forward to Prussia repeating that experience.

The tsar gasped as Prussia cornered him against the wall, a feral grin on his lips that did nothing to calm the fire raging in his loins. His thoughts left his mind when their mouths met in a kiss that was fierce and aggressive, nearly painful. Russia relished in the sensation of the other man pressed so close against him.

“Stay,” Prussia growled as he sunk to his knees. The sound rumbled from the centre of his chest out into the air between them, he looked animalistic. A pleasant shiver ran down Russian Empire’s spine and he nodded, swallowing hard in anticipation. He had seen Prussia on his knees before and yet every time it felt like the very first all over again.

It only took Prussia a couple of seconds to free Russia’s half-hard cock from its confines. His eye sparkled in appreciation, like the sun reflecting off of an icy surface. Not warm, not particularly in the very least, but not as cold as it normally appeared. His wings gave a little twitch before he parted his lips.

When Prussia’s mouth wrapped around the tip of his cock, Russian Empire groaned and let his head fall backwards into the wall behind him. His hips twitched forward slightly and immediately Prussia’s arm pressed him back against the wall. Looking down at the other man Russia caught the warning in his gaze and shivered once again. He had demanded Russian Empire be still and he fully expected him to obey.

Russia had never fought so hard in his life as in that moment. He was tense in a way that made him feel even more aroused than he would any other time. In the back of his mind, he was well aware that they were still in the middle of the corridor. It was empty for now but there was always the chance that someone would walk around the corner. He could still hear the chattering of Prussia’s guests in the grand hall.

He wondered whether Prussia cared or whether he was even thinking this far. It seemed not; the salacity of their situation had become an afterthought. Prussia widened his legs as though showing off the bulge in his pants to Russia who was beginning to feel light-headed with lust.

“You’re doing good,” Russia murmured, but he was sure that Prussia didn’t hear him. And if he did, then he surely didn’t care. As paradoxical as it sounded, he was doing this for himself, not for Russia.

Yet, he must have registered the appreciation in Russia’s tone as he redoubled his efforts to serve. By all means, if Prussia taking exactly what he wanted meant that Russian Empire would receive pleasure such as this, then he could not complain in the slightest. He groaned, fighting to keep his eyes open in the case that someone did indeed come walking down this hallway.

Russia wasn’t sure why anyone would. The washrooms were down a different hallway entirely, all the festivities were localised to the hall only and every other indulgence was found near the ballroom as well. However, nobles had often been found wandering and Russia was not an exception there.

Prussia bobbed back up, his tongue circling the head of Russia’s cock and the thoughts fled his mind again. The sensations were too much all at once, especially with how Prussia dug his hands into Russian Empire’s thigh and hip, sure to leave more marks come morning.

There was something ethereal in the way Prussia kneeled before him. Something that Russia had never felt when he took control and kneeled for Prussia. It was in the way he kept his eye open, almost alert, and yet the way his gaze was filled only with bliss. As if he had found heaven on earth and was unwilling to let go again. It was in the way his fingers flexed against Russia’s skin and how his wings were now spread slightly, as if he was getting ready to take off at a moment’s notice.

Maybe it was also the skill he possessed. How he took Russian Empire as though moulded for one purpose. His throat fluttered around Russia when he sunk deeper, little sounds vibrating against the other man’s cock. They weren’t audible, they almost never were in this position, but the meaning was all the same. When he came back up, he heaved breaths where Russia could feel the hot air against his arousal.

None of it was intentional, which made it all the more pleasurable. All that Prussia had learned before this point culminated in this scene; both of them in the corridor of a palace full of tipsy, nosy aristocrats with Prussia taking what he needed and being perfect for Russian Empire as well.

Somewhere, at the back of his mind, Russia registered the church bells ringing, his hips stuttering forward. He knew he’d come undone soon, especially with Prussia showing no signs of stopping his relentless rhythm. How fitting, to start the new century with an orgasm. He laughed silently, laying his palms flat against the stony walls and digging into it to stop himself from moving, from grabbing hold of Prussia’s meticulously made ponytail and thrusting forward until he could feel the other man choking on his cock.

The thought alone had him moaning quietly into the night’s air. Somewhere a window was open, and Russia registered the cold breeze against his overheated skin. He pressed back against the wall, feeling its cold creep through his clothes.

His mind was spinning, tumbling, whirling with pleasure. Every new sensation, well-practiced and often performed, was like a stroke of lightning tearing through his body. He saw white, he saw colours, he saw black. Russia pried his eyes open and went rigid when he realised Prussia was watching him. There was mischief in his gaze and then his teeth scraped against Russia’s vulnerable flesh.

Release. White, hot, no pun intended, first flooding through his veins, his mind, his muscles and then out into Prussia’s mouth. Russia’s ears rang and if he moaned, he had no idea how loud it was. His entire world felt like it was being turned on its head and like it had just righted itself for the first time in months at the exact same time.

When he came to, breathing harshly and his entire body melted against the bricks behind him, his legs shaking and his heart racing, he felt unwound and weightless. It was a heady feeling, too much and not enough all at once. He had to push Prussia off when the other made an attempt to keep on sucking Russia off despite the latter’s release still coating his tongue.

Prussia sat back on his heels, his gaze directed to the floor now that the act was done. He looked tranquil again, the anger taking a step back so he could truly think of what had just happened. Russian Empire was too busy trying to right his... well, everything, to pay attention to his lover. His mind was still reeling, stuck in a loop of lust that his body had already left again.

It took him an awkwardly long time to gain full control over his being and when he did, he looked down at Prussia. The king was deep in thought, though clearly satisfied with what he had enacted. They both let the moment linger, though Russia suspected it was for differing reasons. The longer he inspected Prussia, the more affectionate his expression grew until he felt the softness spread down into his heart. How had they deserved each other?

“Now,” Russia said with a small laugh, banishing the question from his thoughts, “what nettles you so?” He put himself away, buttoned his trousers and then held his hand out, offering it to Prussia so he could get up from the dusty stone floor of the castle’s halls.

Prussia accepted it and stood up with a small grunt, wiping the moisture from his face with the handkerchief from his breast pocket. He allowed Russia to pull him closer but locked their eyes. When he spoke, it sounded rough and Russia regretted, for a brief moment, not having wrecked his vocal cords more. “I made the fatal error of inviting Austrian Empire to this function. And, you might say we should stay civil but when he brings up Bavaria and that damned potato war, then one cannot blame me...” He was about to go on another tirade but his voice trailed off when Russia placed his hand against Prussia's cheek, tracing the lines of his face.

“It’s been twenty years, dearest,” he reminded gently, kissing Prussia to blight his next protest. “Austria loves to provoke but you’re making it easy for him."

“Well, thanks for the vote of confidence.” Prussia rolled his eyes but Russian Empire saw the corner of his mouth twitch into a reluctant smile.

They kissed again, slow and rhythmic, tasting each other, the new year and the moment itself. When Russia pulled away, he gently caressed Prussia’s lips. “You know I’m correct. Leave him to his comments. I support you, just focus on that.” Russia managed to coax a more genuine smile onto Prussia’s features and grinned back.

Prussia shook his head with amusement, taking Russia’s hand in his own. “Very well. My attention lies all with you.”

They did not return to the ballroom again.

Chapter Text

“Let me blind you.”

The idea had come to Russian Empire on a whim, though he partially blamed Prussia’s patch for it. If it could cover one eye, it could cover the other. A fairly logical conclusion that had led to an arguably less logical progression of his thoughts. They both enjoyed when Prussia was at Russia’s mercy, when all he could do was respond to the whims of his lover and see where it would lead them. Perhaps it wasn’t all too far-fetched that Russian Empire always sought to push the limits that Prussia set, if mostly nonverbally.

Prussia, who, for the spontaneity of the statement, seemed surprisingly composed when he raised his gaze from the book laying in his lap, just hummed. His wings were folded at his back, gleaming in the early morning sunlight after he had spent most of this morning preening and taking proper care of them. The fact he didn’t immediately flinch away from Russia was certainly a good sign that despite the unfortunate phrasing of his idea, Prussia seemed willing to listen first.

“Your left eye,” Russia explained, pointing at the mentioned body part. “I’d like to cover it.”

“What purpose does that serve?”

Russia grinned. “Why, a sexual one, of course.”

“Ah.” Prussia’s cheeks tinged a soft rosé and he glanced down at his book before meeting Russia’s eyes anew. He seemed unsure. “Right this second?”

“Whenever you wish to follow my demands.” Russia sat up properly, letting the fur blanket fall from his chest with the motion. He placed his hand against Prussia’s cheek, marvelling at how perfectly they fit together. “I do not wish to force myself upon you, dearest.”

Prussia covered Russia's hand, ever so careful with his talons though just feeling their edge against his own soft skin had a pleasant shiver running down Russian Empire’s spine. He had felt them against his skin several times, short of drawing blood but never enough to break skin. He wondered if there was something he could do to convince Prussia of using them in their more lethal form. Not today. Just, at some point in the future. He wanted to know if they would be like a knife or something deadlier. Was there warmth where a blade was cold?

“I have never doubted you,” Prussia responded, meaning so much more than the simple thing of Russian Empire respecting his wishes. “Have you a proper blindfold?” Russia startled, looking to the side sheepishly. He did not have the foresight even though he had been thinking of this type of scene for quite some time now. Prussia’s wings twitched twice, a movement that Russia had learned meant amusement, and kissed the tip of Russia’s nose. “You’re sweet, angel,” he murmured. “However, if you thought my patch would be enough, you have erred.”

“I’ll tie you up with a scarf if you force my hand.” The threat crossed Russia’s lips easily, only half playful as they both knew. He had no qualms following through with the things he said.

“I’m not doing anything.” A cheeky smile stretched over Prussia’s lips, radiating a warmth that Russia had been told could never be associated with him. Russian Empire had long found that the rumours about his lover were unfounded. A tableau of nonsense spewed to defame someone so loveable and loving Russia could not imagine feeling any differently towards them.

"Yes, you are,” Russia argued back, plucking the book from Prussia’s loose grasp. “I have a cravat. Will my dearest be satisfied with something so filthy or do I have to make him a blindfold out of silk?”

Prussia shook his head, chuckling softly. “Be silent, nuisance.” The mattress dipped when he shifted off, walking over to where Russian Empire had left his clothes before joining Prussia in bed the day before. He crouched down in front of the pile, clicking his tongue at the mess Russia’s clothes were. “Do you need to leave such chaos?”

Russia smiled at his lover’s quips, recognising the tease for something light-hearted. “When I want to spend as much time with a certain someone as possible, then yes,” he responded casually, because he knew exactly how awkward Prussia became at this sort of affection – the sort that came quietly and settled in next to all of the grand gestures and emotions. Just as predicted, Prussia had no witty response for him, pretending to be busy even though Russia could see him already holding the garment he’d been looking for. He hid slightly by widening his wings but the fact he was expressing himself so openly in the first place was more obvious than any words he might speak. After some time, Prussia finally turned around to face Russian Empire and held the cravat up in silent question, his head cocked to the side like a curious bird.

“Yes, dear, that is the one I meant,” Russia nodded amusedly, beckoning Prussia closer again. His eyes took in his lover’s form, raking over him appreciatively. Prussia was covered with only a sheer dress shirt, an older one he would never wear in public for fear of debauching his image. Beneath this he wore next to nothing, the rope Russia had gifted him a few years ago now tied around his thigh instead of his wrist, marking him up quite beautifully especially since it was a little too tight. Usually, it was long enough to wrap around Prussia’s wrist twice and still leave a little space but on his thigh... Russian Empire couldn’t help but be reminded of a cilice and he was convinced the placement of his rope atop the scars on Prussia’s thigh was intentional. For all of Russia’s attempts of replacing God with his lover, Prussia seemed to be quite a bit more successful at doing the reverse. “You are a goddamn dream,” Russia muttered, holding out a hand towards Prussia so he would finally hurry up and join him in bed once more. He could not quite remember how he had managed to persuade Prussia to take a day off – though, it had included many more compliments and kisses than the ones Russia already gave Prussia on any regular day – but now, with the prospect of one of his fantasies about to come true, Russian Empire could not be prouder of himself if he tried.

A soft smile spread on Prussia’s features, pleased with the attention he was receiving. Before he took Russia’s hand, Prussia untied the string of his patch and placed it gently on the bedside table. Then, he allowed the tsar to pull him back onto the bed, and straddled his lap, the cravat held loosely in his right hand as though it was a prize he was proud of winning. Russia snatched the thing out of Prussia’s hands with a teasing wink and threw it over his shoulder before arranging Prussia a little neater atop him. His hands spanned across Prussia’s thighs, pushing them further open so the shirt would ride up. Then, they travelled higher, pushing the shirt out of the way before letting it drop against Prussia’s wings. Prussia shook his wings out until the shirt fell to the mattress with a soft noise. Russian Empire had followed his hands’ path with his eyes, but now, Russian Empire looked up again. He stayed silent – there was an energy in the air that he did not wish to break just yet. They stared at each other for a while, far enough to not go cross-eyed while close enough to feel each other’s warmth. He saw that Prussia would be the one to break the silence before he had even opened his mouth.

“Still indulging in this strange habit of yours?” Prussia asked quietly, shifting against Russia’s hold to make it more comfortable for himself.

“Strange habit?” Russian Empire’s hands grabbed Prussia’s waist tighter, forcing him to still once more. There was no push back from Prussia, for once.

Prussia hummed softly, closing his eyes for a second before meeting Russian Empire’s again. “You stare at me so often. As if you didn’t already know how I looked like after all this time.”

“I can’t appreciate a person I love very dearly?” Russia asked quietly, without teasing. As much as Prussia’s quirks were often amusing to him, Russian Empire always endeavoured to understand the other man more and more. Whether this was a good moment remained to be seen, of course.

Confusion slipped into Prussia’s easy-going expression but he didn’t lock his emotions away immediately. “You can,” he responded slowly, brows knitting together sweetly. “I was merely wondering why.”

Russian Empire shifted slightly, taking Prussia’s face into his hands. “Because I enjoy it. Do you not enjoy looking at me?”

“I do.” A gentle sigh left Prussia’s lips and he leaned forward to capture Russia’s mouth in a kiss. “Do not mind my worries.” He unfolded his wings until they spanned from one side of the bed to the other, casting shadows once again. It was a habit Russia had noticed before already. It was to conceal them both but Prussia only ever did it when he was relaxed. Like hiding, too, was something he could only allow himself when in the company of people whose trust was absolute.

“Ah, my sweet.” Russia tucked a strand of hair behind Prussia’s ear, smiling softly. “I concern myself with you whenever it pleases me. You will have to contend yourself with such a fate if you accept being loved by someone like myself.”

Prussia mirrored Russian Empire’s smile, relaxed in a way he so rarely was. “I must admit, my star,” he leaned forward, his voice dropping into a whisper, “that is perhaps the easiest task you may ask of me.”

Russia exhaled, loud in the silent concert they had created. “Is that so? I must reflect the flattery upon you in compensation.”

“You do not need to compensate me for loving you—”

They kissed again, slow and heavy. Russia felt the weight of Prussia’s body like an anchor, binding him to the present moment until his worries and thoughts slipped away. The cravat, a wisp on his shoulder, was just as heavy, reminding him of the fantasy he had set out to fulfil. “Are you ready, moon?”

Prussia’s eyes were still closed in soft bliss, a barely there smile softening his features. “Nervous but yes.”

“Open your eyes for me, Prussia. I want to look at them before doing this.” When he did, Russian Empire’s breath stopped for a moment. Sometimes he allowed himself to forget the effect Prussia had on him, the push and pull that kept him from losing his mind during the long months of absence between their meetings. He forgot the body he explored whenever he had the chance and the voice that kept him awake to ask nonsensical philosophical questions. Forgot their banter, everything until the time they met again. And then, they did and Russia felt like the very first time they had kissed, felt how his heart skipped several beats, the rush of euphoria that travelled through his body, the warmth that affected his face and betrayed him through the tips of his ears.

Laughter interrupted Russian Empire’s thoughts. “Once again. Come, now, what sort of man are you? Leaving your lover waiting like so?” Prussia lifted his hand, tracing Russia’s jaw with the talon on his index finger. He had tilted his head to the side, biting his bottom lip lightly. “Or are you granting me more time to admire the man I love more than anything in this world?”

“You flatter me, love,” Russia responded without making a move to grab the cravat. Prussia reached for it after a couple of seconds. His left eye, cold blue that made Russian Empire shiver with its intensity, demanding his attention even if it was for something small, closed slowly. As though Prussia savoured the impatience Russia could not hide, delighting in the quiet moments of submission he teased out of the tsar. Only when his lids had shut away the raw soul in his pupils entirely, only then Prussia raised his arms and let the fabric fall softly against his face. As strange as it seemed to Russia, there was something erotic about the way Prussia moved. A sensuality that did not seem accidental. Russian Empire trailed his hands over the naked torso Prussia presented to him, delighting in the small shivers that ran through Prussia’s body in response. The knot seemed a bit too tight to Russia but, as though reading his thoughts, Prussia tugged on it gently to show how it could still easily come off if need be. His hands dropped down, neatly on his thighs. It was quiet for minutes as they both adjusted.

“I can hear your heartbeat.”

Russian Empire snorted softly. “That’s not a novelty. Your hearing has always been better than most people’s.” He smoothed over Prussia’s right wing, stilling a tremor that had run through it before.

“It’s so fast. And loud.” He bit his lip again, like he was trying to concentrate fully on categorising the sound. "Like a rabbit's."

“Do you wish to stop?”

Prussia shook his head, catching Russia’s hand and squeezing it. “I was not expecting it, is all. Give me a bit to get used to it.”

“As you wish.”

During the next few minutes Prussia’s face went through a series of curious expressions, settling finally on a calm sort of excitement. “Alright,” he murmured then, beginning to grin at the prospect of what was to come.

Russia mirrored the expression and turned them around, leaving just enough time for Prussia to sort out his wings and lay down comfortably. He huffed slightly when Russia pulled his undergarments off before he had finished arranging the pillows behind him.

“Be patient,” Prussia chastised with a click of his tongue though his voice was just light enough that Russian Empire knew Prussia was teasing. “We have the whole day.”

“Precisely.” Russia tugged at one of the pillows, so Prussia sunk a little deeper onto the bed, before grabbing the rope on Prussia’s thigh and rolling it down, scratching the skin just enough to draw tiny droplets of blood. Prussia gave no audible indication that the action hurt but his lips twitched into a grimace that was just satisfying enough for Russia to not prod. “I’ve waited quite a while already. If you didn’t want to do this, we have a word for it.”

Even with the blindfold Russia could tell that Prussia was rolling his eyes. He slapped the chafed skin on his thigh in retaliation. Prussia hissed in a pained breath. “Fuck you.”

“I fully intend to do just that, my love,” Russia quipped back, rubbing gently at the skin as though to soothe the ache he had just created, though with how Prussia writhed away from the touch, it could not be very relieving. “And tame your tongue.”

“Do it yourself if it bothers you so much,” Prussia provoked. He was aroused, the effect of their arguably rather short foreplay showing in the way his cock curved towards his stomach.

Russian Empire’s grin widened. So, this was the mood Prussia was in. How pleasant. It had been quite a while since Prussia had given Russia the option to let loose so freely. And clearly, that was exactly what he desired, handing over the control over his needs and body into Russia’s willing hands. It always started like this. Prussia fought formidably, mostly with words though if he had his sight, Russia was sure, he might also try to wrestle for the position on top until allowing Russia to overpower him and assert their positions once more. These moments were regrettably a little rare. They both handed over control when they felt like it though Russian Empire wagered, he was a little more open to admit that he enjoyed when Prussia took the helm and did as he pleased to satisfy both their desires. And so, Russia needed to cherish them whenever they presented themself to him. He scooted a little further back and freed Prussia’s leg of the rope entirely, enjoying the strips of the marks he had created by refusing to simply open the knot. Prussia wasn’t complaining, even if his breath was a little out of order. His teeth were gritted, allowing no further noise to slip but when Russian Empire leaned down to kiss the worst of the injury, he relaxed into the mattress, a sigh slipping out of the tight prison he had built.

“You cannot hide from me, Prussia,” Russia whispered as he kissed his way up Prussia’s side, ignoring the weeping erection so close to his mouth to instead bite at his lover’s hip bone. “You never could.” Prussia exhaled sharply, opening his mouth to answer which was exactly when Russia reached out to take his cock in his hand. What left Prussia instead, just as Russian Empire had intended, was an unstifled, surprised moan as he knocked his head back into the pillow, exposing his neck. “See?”

“I sincerely despise you.”

“Adding ‘sincerely’ to a lie does not make it any less of a lie, my moon,” Russia said as he began moving his hand with just so much pressure that Prussia felt it but couldn’t get any sort of satisfaction from the motion. “Whyever would you hide from me in the first place? Isn’t it much lovelier to let go?”

A small laugh left Prussia’s lips. “And make it easy for you?” he asked. His voice was notably quieter than regularly; Russian Empire guessed it came from how his senses had heightened with the blindfold. “Where would the fun be in that? No, my star, you better work for what you desire, or this isn’t going anywhere.”

Russian Empire tightened his hold. Stroking Prussia’s cock with the adjusted pressure had him squirming, making noises that teetered on the line between pained and aroused. “Please do remember who controls you.”

“You control me, huh?” Prussia repeated when he had caught up with the new pace. His hand shot down to hold Russia’s wrist, but he didn’t do anything yet. “I have just as much power to stop you as you have to continue this.”

Surging up, Russia gathered both of Prussia’s wrists in his hands and tied them to the headboard with the discarded rope. “That is changed quite easily, no?” he asked, sitting on Prussia’s legs and holding his wings down in a way that seemed uncomfortable if Prussia’s expression was anything to go by. “Do you admit I hold the reins?”

“I admit,” Prussia began, interrupting himself briefly when Russian Empire began stroking both of their erections in one hand, “that you have odd interpretations of what it means to be in control of a situation. And that impatience is not a virtue.”

“A shame.” Russia leaned down and ended their argument with an intense kiss instead of allowing Prussia to lead the conversation into territory that no longer reflected their circumstances. He would not allow Prussia to kill his erection because he needed to be a pedantic ass. Prussia bit Russian Empire’s bottom lip, gasping when Russia pressed the nail of his pointer under the head of his cock. He yanked his head to the side, evading Russian Empire, who leaned down to nip at Prussia’s collarbone instead. Russian Empire had been able to largely ignore both of their arousal up until now. However, when Prussia’s thigh began shaking, he realised how close he, too, was to orgasm and pulled his hand away. Prussia, who had arched up into him, slumped back down with a disappointed sigh. “You’re getting too comfortable.” Russia pinched the skin on Prussia’s inner thigh, only inches from where the rope had lain and cut into his skin.

Prussia yelped, his leg twitching away from Russia, though he couldn’t get far with his full body weight still on top of him. “Don’t,” he grumbled. His face was flushed though not quite in that way embarrassment usually painted him. There was a layer of Prussia’s nerves, still visible beneath the lust and posturing, which gave him just that edge Russia so adored. None of the perfect, none of the sanctity. Prussia looked so much better when raw and dissected, a wild animal captured and presented. A meal eager to be consumed, yearning to serve a purpose so beyond what the soul beneath it was taught was orderly and proper.

“Why not?” Russian Empire whispered, teasing the nerves to come forth into the light. A line of agitation defined Prussia’s body language. It was hard to see with the blindfold but his nose scrunched up in the way it always did whenever he frowned at Russia. “You make such a pretty picture when you get this worked up. I should be allowed to take advantage, no?”

Prussia didn’t answer, sneering briefly without making another sound. Russia didn’t force him to. He expected Prussia wouldn’t be able to hold onto his noises at a later point and there was no sense in rushing this. And blissful unawareness suited his lover as well. Making the powerful look so empty of power, so devoted to their situation. Bringing a saintly figure to their knees, cutting an angel’s wings. Ruining art not for hatred of the artist but to transform the piece into a new medium. There was something so simple about cruelty that appealed to Russian Empire on a fundamental level – in a way he needed to use against what was beautiful to make it human again. Cruelty out of hatred, however, did not appeal to him. No, it had to come from a place of love, of worship, the way people desecrated holy places by bringing sin into them. Of course, sin could be cleansed, could be forgiven and soothed by simple touches of soul against soul. Oh, but the holy places, houses where God resided, they only grew stronger with each little freedom sinners brought into its domain because there, God could forgive, he could allow for these frivolities that would not matter once death grabbed you with its cold hands, clawing at your back, stripping you of clothes and dignity, of your skin and those silly pleasures.

A soft whine, so gentle it might have been carried away by wind had there been any around them, pulled Russian Empire back into the bedroom, where Prussia was shifting against the sheets, trying not to rub his wrists raw as he searched for the relief Russian Empire denied him so cruelly. He looked almost tortured, sharp teeth biting into pretty lips. Russia leaned down, nosing at Prussia’s cheek, right below where the blindfold ended, placing soft kisses until he had reached his lover’s lips again. Prussia sighed into the kiss, as though it was absolution. Salvation. Russia pulled away, a satisfied smile spreading on his lips as Prussia chased after him, hissing when the movement tore at the rope restraining his arms. The muscles flexed as he strained against it, chest moving in erratic bursts as though it was exhausting Prussia more than he was willing to admit. Russian Empire watched him struggle for a while, following the flush travelling down Prussia’s neck with gleaming eyes. It was only when a sound – broken, needier than before – left Prussia that Russia pressed him down against the pillows with a decisive hand.

“Alright, that’s enough,” he soothed, voice condescendingly low though this time Prussia barely showed any reaction. Just as Russia had hoped, the blindfold seemed to pull him down into that lovely mindset of subservience that appealed to him so. If he were to lift it, Russian Empire was sure, he’d find pretty, pearly droplets in the corners of Prussia’s eyes. They always had the effect of making his left eye look like pools of icy water. Beautiful. But Prussia wasn’t outright sobbing yet, and so Russia knew he could push some more. He was slow to return to their erections, even though he felt the strain in his own body, the need he had suppressed for much too long with musings and preparation now coming back tenfold. He muffled a low groan against Prussia’s neck as he grasped them both in one hand once more.

Prussia’s breath hiccupped as he tensed before he slumped against the bedding. Once more, Russian Empire had the oddest feeling that Prussia seemed exhausted. The anticipation in his body seemed to sap at his strength, leaving him unable to relax until it was fulfilled but dreading the fulfilment as much as being left to his own devices. And Russian Empire lapped it up like he was starving for it. He sat up properly, watching the sheen of sweat as it trickled from Prussia’s pecs to soak in his wings, quivering in the same position Russia had left them in earlier. Some feathers were bent at angles that could in no life be comfortable but Prussia made no attempt at moving them, as though he was hardly aware of the sensation tearing at him. Russian Empire felt like he was on a throne. A defiled, filthy one, sure, but a throne nonetheless. With the most beautiful view one could imagine, reserved only for one pair of eyes.

Russia let go of Prussia’s cock, stroking only himself. It was good, better than good, really. The relief felt like taking an ice bath when you were out in the sun for too long, a shock to his system but one he welcomed with open arms. The moans he let out were only slightly exaggerated, the purity of the feeling enough to make the intensity sincere. Prussia commented on it with another weak thrash against the restraints, though he stopped without any progress made and settled on gritting his teeth against what Russian Empire assumed were either needy pleads or curses. Either or would delight Russia too much, after all. “Am I making a good show of myself, moon?” he purred, lightly brushing the underside of Prussia’s cock with his knuckles, earning himself a hiss as Prussia debated whether to flinch away at the sudden touch or demand more of it.

Registering the words themselves took much longer, and it was a wonderful sight to see how Prussia’s expression shifted so minutely into one of almost exasperated annoyance. “Is this your idea of a joke?” he bit out through breaths that sounded dangerously close to whines.

“A good joke, in fact.”

Prussia made a face that told Russia exactly what he thought of his attempt at humour and even through the blindfold he could feel that withering glare trying to carve a piece out of his soul. It made something giddy churn in his chest – something that felt strangely out of place for the moment but that elevated Russian Empire’s feeling into softness and warmth. He stroked faster, supporting his weight with a hand on Prussia’s thigh, kneading the muscle beneath him until Prussia was writhing to try and throw him off. “Careful, my sweet,” Russian Empire panted, smug smile audible in his words. He could see Prussia bare his teeth, see the flush spread patchily over the white part of his cheeks. “You wouldn’t want to end this prematurely, would you?”

“Fuck you,” Prussia spit venomously though he did settle back onto the pillows, chest heaving with the exertion of his protests. He turned his head before Russian Empire could strike at him, humming when the air of the movement created ripples over his skin. “You’re being predictable—” His words ended in a cry of pain as Russian Empire raked his nails over Prussia’s skin, enough to raise welts, enough to break skin. He flinched away, shivering when a droplet of blood ran down his chest. His next few breaths were loud, bordering on sobs, and he didn’t protest again.

Russian Empire allowed him a few moments of peace, stroking himself faster now, rocking slightly back at each downward stroke. The sensation was heavenly, a release of all tension that Russia hadn’t even noticed he was carrying in his muscles. He approached orgasm faster now – having denied himself several times just to drag this out, to tease Prussia and himself, to make the end all the sweeter. Streaks of white covered Prussia’s chest, a few flying high enough to reach his face and Prussia tried to twist away again when one of the drops made it onto the blindfold, soaking through. He shivered, arching against his restraints and towards Russia, unable to do more than to plead quietly for the torment to end. Russia leaned down, capturing Prussia’s mouth in a messy kiss. Anticipation tore them down, this temple they had erected between them and every gasp was a prayer to their God.

“Please,” Prussia murmured into the air in the one second of freedom he received as Russian Empire pulled back enough to get some air back into his lungs. His lips formed to make another word but Russia interrupted him by covering his mouth with a hand, his other – wet and messy with his own spend – trailed over the wounds, relishing in the twitch of Prussia’s body, and then finally reached his cock.

He started slowly, loose strokes that did not grant much relief, meant to stoke the fire until it blazed through Prussia’s whole body, until he quite literally burned alive from the need to be touched. And not just touched by anyone, touched by Russia. Because nobody could grant him what he sought, not even Prussia himself. Though when Prussia’s noises turned from soft whines into gentle breathing as he got used to the pressure and rhythm, Russian Empire changed it up. His fist tightened and he quickened his movements until Prussia couldn’t hold back on his moans any longer. There was a twist around Prussia’s mouth, as though this was no longer fun but rather torture, and a low chuckle rumbled from Russian Empire’s chest – undeniably pleased with the dominance he exerted over his lover so effortlessly.

Once Prussia’s thighs started to twitch beneath Russian Empire, he slowed down again, a soft smile dancing around his mouth at the pearls of precum weeping over the other man’s dick. He looked agonised as he forced several deep lungfuls of air into his chest. “Stop,” Prussia whispered when he had gotten his bearings back, limbs trembling as though they weren’t quite sure whether to sink into the bed with bone-deep exhaustion or rather to strain more.

Russia didn’t stop nor did he slow down; no, he sped his hand up again. Early into their relationship, they had decided that when they were both in the mood for a scene like this, stop didn’t exactly mean stop. In fact, it often meant quite the opposite when Prussia said it as sweetly as this. And just as Russian Empire had expected, Prussia arched into the touch again, teeth biting into his lip as whimper after whimper built from his throat upwards, a constant barrage of acknowledgement on the burning altar of Russia’s desire. He was drunk on the sounds, mind so focused on this moment he had tunnel vision. Russian Empire hardly registered that there was a mattress beneath him, that there was anything in the room besides the person writhing beneath him in pleasured agony, fighting against the restraints as Russia denied him his orgasm once again only to start stroking moments later, dragging the point of simulation further until there was a wet spot on the blindfold where tears had soaked into the fabric.

“Mercury!” Prussia nearly yelled, and Russia flinched away as though he had been burned. The room returned to him in such detail that he nearly lost his balance despite being seated quite securely. He pulled the blindfold off without any hesitation, noticing how wide Prussia’s eyes had grown beneath it. Just as quickly, he undid Prussia’s cuffs and moved away so the other could move freely without any obstructions. Prussia curled up in the corner of the bed, shielding himself with his wings. He was trembling even worse now, each breath quicker than the last. He was pale, his flag stained grey instead of black, and there was nothing of that beautiful blush left that had painted him so thoroughly earlier. When Russian Empire reached out to take Prussia’s hand, he flinched away from him and made himself even smaller, as though he was scared of being struck.

“I didn’t know,” Russia whispered and meant I am so sorry, forgive me.

Prussia shook his head, curling up tighter, his talons digging into the skin of his naked legs and drawing blood without even noticing. Russia’s thoughts were racing, trying to figure out what had happened to turn this day around and make it into such a mess. But, the realisation came with a painful tug at his heart, he couldn’t do anything, staring helplessly as Prussia tried fruitlessly to calm himself down. He turned his eyes away, hoping it would make Prussia feel less like he was under scrutiny, handing him the opportunity to control his own well-being. And yet his eyes kept drifting back without his permission.

He wondered how he could rip Prussia from his spiralling thoughts and back into the present without making him more fearful. Because this was fear, so blatant and unequivocally that Russian Empire could not help but be fascinated. It was entrancing how Prussia moved even while he was so petrified he tried to make himself into a statue. It was unlike his usual stance when he was commanding his soldiers. There he stood tall, demanding respect even without saying a single word or moving even a millimetre. Prussia was trying not to move now but even the minutest shift in the air had him nearly jumping out of his skin. Every breath seemed to drag him further away from sanity rather than returning him to it.

Russian Empire stood abruptly, regretting it only milliseconds later when Prussia whimpered in fear. It was only then that Russia truly processed what exactly was happening. Prussia wasn’t just scared. Prussia was scared of him. For a few moments Russia simply stood beside the bed, hands clenched into fists not out of anger but out of the need to help, to do something, anything, to fix this. He forced himself to draw calming breaths, closing his eyes as he relaxed his muscles and brought his mind to a state of coherence. Prussia was struggling and Russia needed to do something but first, he needed to have a clear head. When he had achieved this task, he consciously made himself smaller. It felt ridiculous, hunching beside the bed, opposite of Prussia, but when he dared to fully take in Prussia’s form again, he seemed less like he was about to claw his skin off. His breaths were still fast, and Russia wouldn’t be surprised if he was growing lightheaded, but at least Prussia wasn’t hyperventilating anymore.

“I will send for some tea and food. When they are here, I’ll leave you alone for about ten minutes and get you a book from the library before washing up as well,” Russia explained his next steps carefully, voice calm and soothing in the hopes of proving to Prussia that he was not a threat. “I’ll be in the conservatory. When you feel better, please call for me.” I’d hate to leave you alone too long. Russian Empire left his remaining thoughts unsaid, though he was sure Prussia understood them beneath his worry and forced level-headedness.

There was no indication that Prussia had registered the words and Russian Empire didn’t wait for one. He moved with deliberate slowness, each step carefully considered as he walked around the room. From the chest standing at the foot of the bed, Russian Empire pulled fresh clothes, which he lay on the edge of the bed. Then, he left the room to fetch a thick blanket and a book from his library. Given Prussia’s mental state, it was one in German, which Russia recalled Prussia having read before. When he returned to the room, Prussia had not moved much. His breathing was calmer, his face was slowly returning to its healthy colour and he was not hugging himself quite as tightly as he had before but he seemed largely unresponsive still. Russian Empire only filled a cup with the tea he had called for before he left Prussia to his own devices again.

For three hours, there was absolutely nothing. Russia paced the conservatory, talked briefly with his advisors without registering any information they gave him, and then played cello for a while. The music was disjointed and soulless, but it gave Russian Empire enough purpose to not storm up the steps, into his room and shake Prussia until he was back to his usual self. And then, a servant approached him, speaking in hurried Russian and gesturing towards the general direction of Russian Empire’s sleeping quarters. As he walked back to Prussia, Russia prayed briefly that the news wouldn’t spread too wide that Prussia and he had shared a bed, though he feared it was a fool’s hope.

“It’s odd,” Prussia spoke up as soon as Russia had entered the room, more in his element, even though he was wrapped tightly in the blanket Russian Empire had brought him earlier. He looked... better. There was still a wary glint in his eyes but even his frown had smoothed out into an almost easy smile. Russian Empire felt his breath catch in his throat at the quiet strength his lover displayed, heart stuttering a beat or two. The book he had chosen earlier lay discarded by Prussia's side.

“What is?” Russia asked after he had gathered himself enough to find his voice. He approached carefully in case Prussia’s brain had not entirely recovered but Prussia barely even acknowledged him besides making space on the bed and then taking his hand when Russia had sat down. Russian Empire didn’t hurry him, even as curiosity and worry tore at his insides. He didn’t wish to scare Prussia further but a part of him just wanted to cradle him close until they had both forgotten this morning had ever happened.

“Despite the...” Prussia grimaced and made a gesture with his hand. Russian Empire nodded nonetheless. It was not difficult to guess what he was referring to. “...situation, I enjoyed part of the experience? And I am not referring to the beginning before I started to feel... afraid.” He took a deep breath, turning to face Prussia, his eyes determined. “I enjoyed being like that. I think?”

The first response Russia had at the tip of his tongue was to reassure Prussia that he did not have to find positives in what had happened but there was something very earnest in Prussia’s expression that Russia did not want to dismiss so easily. “Do you mean the feeling in general or being afraid of...?” Me. Russian Empire couldn’t allow the word to slip, that one painful truth that had ruined the morning.

And yet, Prussia met Russia’s gaze without issue, just as he did whenever they saw each other. Not a trace of the acrid terror left that had resided on Prussia’s face with such ease. “Both, I suppose,” he answered with a casualness that Russian Empire didn’t know to trust. “I didn’t enjoy it mainly because I didn’t expect it.” Russia was not sure how to respond. The longer Prussia spoke, the more unclear Russia's own thoughts became. A sense of déjà vu crept into his mind and he was reminded of his illness seven years ago, after the incident in Warsaw. He wondered whether this would end in the same type of dazed rapture.

“I suppose what I am trying to express,” Prussia continued, his voice underlined with a breathless sort of excitement that had Russia’s heart leaping out of his throat with anticipation, “is that I would enjoy enacting a... scenario where you scared me purposefully.”

Briefly, Russian Empire’s soul bounded into the stratosphere only to crash back into his body at a speed that left him reeling. “You... What?” he asked, feeling a little short-winded as well. Hidden from Prussia’s view, he pinched himself, now quite certain that he had to be dreaming. Perhaps this simply was one of the weirdest nightmarish dreams his mind had ever come up with. But it wasn’t. Of course not. He was awake and quite aware of the fact.

Prussia gave him a look that made Russia feel foolish, like his concern was too much instead of a normal reaction for this situation. Somehow it didn’t surprise him that Prussia would not find it a normal reaction. There were few things that Prussia had in common with ‘normal’ men. “It would hardly be the oddest idea we have indulged in,” he said in a deadpan. “Must I remind you of 1796?”

“There is no need,” Russian Empire murmured, trying to sort through the pure confusion that had settled itself so comfortably among his thoughts. “I... do not... Are you— are you certain?”

The look that crossed Prussia’s face now was so unlike his earlier expression of visceral fear that Russian Empire was convinced, if only for a moment, that he must have hallucinated it earlier. But it was burned into his retinas, the picture of absolute terror on Prussia’s face, the tremble in his limbs, the paleness of his face. All of those had been there, not just imagined and part of Russia was excited that Prussia wanted him to see that again. To hear that breath hitch with more than just surprise, to see those eyes wide and anxious because Prussia knew that Russian Empire could hurt him and there was nothing he could do to stop it. “I am certain.”

When Russian Empire was roused from sleep, he was not entirely sure what it had been. It was dark outside, dim silver moonlight painted the walls, where shadows danced whenever a bird flew by or one of the tall trees moved with soft wind. It wasn’t overbearingly hot, and, though he was still sweating slightly, Russian Empire knew that this was not the reason for his sudden wakefulness. A noise made him strain his ears. It was muffled, as it would if made against fabric like a pillow or the linen of one’s clothes. Russia sat up, eyes adjusting only slowly to the darkness of his room. His window was open, creaking slightly in a gentle breeze from outside. He scanned his room but could find nothing wrong with it. The noise came again, slightly louder, and most definitely human. There was only one person Russian Empire knew who would come to his room in the middle of the night when so vulnerable.

Eyes still searching the bedroom for the familiar figure of his lover, Russian Empire scrambled for a match to light the candle sitting on his bedside table. It took him much longer than he was willing to admit until he had lit it, and then he had to blink his eyes, accidentally having looked right into the flame. He turned his head slowly and found Prussia beneath his window. Cowering against the wall beneath the ledge, Prussia looked... small, fragile even. Not like a fierce warrior or a stern noble but disarmingly human. No, that wasn’t quite right. A human wasn’t this easily fractured. Perhaps a doll, one of porcelain, not made to endure but to break when the time was right. And Prussia was indeed so precious when he fell apart. Russia only regretted that it was the middle of the night, his brain still sluggish though waking up slowly with the intrigue of this turn of events.

He stood from his mattress with deliberate movements, something sick curling pleasantly in his chest when he recognised that same fear he had seen just a couple months earlier. It had wrapped around Prussia with piercing tendrils, pulling at his facial muscles until it so perfectly resembled a mask of terror. Ah, and that was where the noises were coming from. Ugly sobs tore from Prussia’s chest as he fought to suppress them, leaving that sound of desperation clawing through his throat and tearing into his sinews. The dichotomy that arose in Russian Empire’s mind was simply wonderful, and it just grew as he kept staring. Prussia looked truly beautiful in his hideousness. Russia simply stared for a while, entranced by the show in front of him. Prussia didn’t look up, hadn’t yet noticed that Russia was already awake. He wondered, should he leave Prussia in place without making him aware of Russia’s presence, would he eventually hyperventilate himself into unconsciousness?

This pain, etched so deeply into Prussia's face as to make a mockery of the faint scars and wrinkles that had gathered over his centuries of life, was more alive than anything else he ever experienced, and Russian Empire wagered his mental pain was the only reason why Prussia still pushed forward. He lived to be hurt as much as he loved it.

Russian Empire’s heart hurt at the next sob, this one less suppressed but all the more desperate for it. He sank down on his knees in front of Prussia and reached out to cup his cheek, tilting his head gently until their eyes could meet. In a flash, Prussia roughly pulled Russian Empire into his arms. Russia couldn’t stop himself from yelping quietly as he lost balance and had to catch himself against Prussia’s chest. He felt the rapid beat of his heart, his wings cocooning them and emphasising the tremble in Prussia’s body. As Russian Empire tried to move, he was surprised at the sheer strength Prussia exhibited despite being incapacitated by his own emotions. His arms were like steel bands around Russia’s body, strong enough to crush him if Russia posed a threat.

“Dearest?” he asked quietly, a few moments of lying tensely in Prussia’s arms having gone by. He didn’t attempt to move any more, even though the position dug his knees into the hard stone floor.

“I dreamt you died,” Prussia responded, his voice hitching up into yet another sob, so hysteric that Russian Empire couldn’t help but wince. His arms trembled as he pulled Russia closer yet, hands fisting in his shirt and talons scratching Russia’s shoulders. Prussia shuddered, pressing his forehead against the crook of Russia’s neck, right above his pulse point, where he stayed, breaths ragged and wet against the tsar’s skin.

Russia sighed softly, mind focusing at the pain and shaking off the last bits of slumber that had clung to him until now. He shifted just enough that the majority of his weight wasn’t solely supported by his knees. “I’m not dead, luna,” he murmured quietly, not covering up the thunderous storm his own heart beat had become – a mixture of excitement and stress dancing through his veins until they felt molten hot.

A wet, bitter laugh escaped Prussia’s lips. “I can tell,” he murmured, though his grip on Russia just tightened until Russia made a pained sound, and Prussia forced his muscles to relax again. “Doesn’t exactly cure the memory.”

“It’s not a memory,” Russia argued gently, reminded of a philosophical discussion they had held over their letters a couple of weeks ago. However, he doubted Prussia was in the mood to indulge in the philosophical side of this topic at the moment. “Not a real one anyway.”

“You were drowning,” Prussia shared instead of arguing back, pressing his face more into Russian Empire’s neck, as if he could somehow inhale the scent of the living if he simply merged their bodies into one. “I saw your face as you realised you wouldn’t break the surface quickly enough to save yourself. And then,” his breath hitched so violently that Russia felt the shudder transfer into his own body, “you gasped, inhaling water. And you thrashed as the panic caught you and you forgot where the surface even was. I watched the life leave your eyes but you kept staring at me. As if I was at fault for it, as if I should have stopped it, somehow.” He shook his head with such vigour that Russian Empire pulled away out of the very real fear that Prussia would hurt either one of them – more than he had already anyway. “But I couldn’t. I didn’t have a body, how could I have saved you? Do you understand? It wasn’t my fault!”

Russia shushed Prussia, caught his hand and held it close to his heart, fingers tight around the other's wrist as if he hoped to leave bruises, letting them both feel each other’s presence. Without mentioning it, the time was not ripe for such revelations so early into the day, Russia too felt Prussia’s pulse, that rhythmic beat through his body, even as panicked as it was. “It wasn’t real,” he repeated more insistently. Prussia inhaled and Russia tightened his grip around Prussia’s wrist, his words turning into a pained gasp. “Listen to me,” he said harshly, “Prussia, what you saw was not real. I am right here, a little worried but otherwise fine.”

Prussia shook his head as if he couldn’t believe it, wings fluttering around them wildly before he used them to pull Russia in further, the bone of his right wing digging into Russian Empire’s spine and irritating the fresh wounds Prussia had inflicted. Russian Empire nearly growled at the stubbornness, taking Prussia by the nape of his neck, pressing his thumb into his pulse point and dragging him from where he had hidden. “Open your eyes,” Russia said. When Prussia didn’t heed the command, Russian Empire dug his thumb in deeper, and repeated slower, “Open. Your. Eyes.” Prussia’s eyes flew open, wide and unseeing, as though he was still trapped there, the image burned into his mind for all eternity. Russian Empire pressed deeper and Prussia gasped, the first breath that sounded like it was actually deep enough to fill his lungs.

His vision cleared slowly, that haunting shadow leaving behind anxious exhaustion. Russian Empire could guess he hadn’t slept enough recently, if he had slept at all that was. Prussia slumped slightly, his arms going slack around Russia’s shoulders as he pressed his hand slightly more against Russia’s heart and breathed in without obstruction for the first time in what seemed like ages. “Let me prove to myself that you’re here,” Prussia mumbled, eyes falling shut briefly and his mouth twisting down into a soft frown, “please.” He was still pale, the black of his flag appeared rather grey instead, his chest moved unevenly but the frantic edge of his panic had vanished. There was a fire in his eyes when he opened them, something determined and fierce. It was this expression that convinced Russia and made him nod his head almost instinctually.

Russia tugged Prussia up from the floor, walking backwards until the hollows of his knees hit the frame. Prussia followed with unsteady steps, his hand white-knuckled around Russian Empire’s but loosening gradually. Eyes never leaving Prussia’s, Russia shuffled back until he could comfortably lie in the middle of the bed. He beckoned Prussia closer, taking the time to look at what his love was wearing. It seemed he had fled from his bed, loose fabric weaving around his body enticingly, and Russian Empire licked his lips at the sight. “How do you want me, Prussia?” he asked, voice gentle again to match the fragility that now ruled Prussia’s actions. His breath hitched with surprise when Prussia did quick work of his own clothes, discarding them at the foot of Russia’s bed without sparing them another glance. Prussia wore the rope again, around his wrist and without noticing it, he pressed it into his skin, looking league’s better by the small gesture.

His attention was single-minded, as if Russian Empire might be dead after all if he looked away for even one second. Prussia didn’t speak, too far in his head to form words that could never reassure him the way touch would. Russian Empire aided him silently, lifting his arms when Prussia took his shirt off and shuffling his pants down until he, too, was bare. Prussia's skin was clammy where he touched Russian Empire, pushing his thighs apart so he could settle between them, a look of concentration on his face. When he touched Russia's cock with nothing more than spit as lubrication, Russia hissed uncomfortably. Still, his arousal – already having simmered low just at being able to see Prussia so vulnerable, in a way he never was, not like this – flared to life like a match thrown to dry kindling. Prussia leaned down as he began languidly stroking Russia’s cock, his ear resting directly above Russia’s heart.

A flutter fuelled Russia’s arousal only further. Despite himself, his cheeks caught fire, the intimacy of Prussia’s gesture not lost on him. For a moment, he felt himself that young man he had been a few decades ago, seeing Prussia briefly on the battlefield during the Great Northern War. That was when he’d first felt it, that intrinsic pull towards the other man, the need to feel his lips on his skin, to see him broken and then built up again. The difference between how Prussia had looked then – fierce and powerful, dirt and blood streaking his skin and clothes as he felled enemy after enemy – to now was driving Russian Empire mad with lust. His thoughts broke in the middle when Prussia twisted his hand just so, air knocking from Russia’s lungs in a soft moan as he surrendered to the feeling.

He tensed up briefly when Prussia’s fingers probed at his hole, wet with oil but those talons still unforgettably sharp. A soft laugh had Russia locking eyes with his lover, own expression sour at being mocked, even if just gently. “I’ll be careful, my love,” Prussia murmured, caressing Russian Empire’s cheek with his thumb before pressing one finger inside.

Russian Empire stopped himself from squirming, even though he was unaccustomed to the feeling. Usually, when he let Prussia penetrate him, Russia preferred to prepare himself, mainly because of the danger those talons posed. He’d probably enjoy the pain if Prussia decided to cut him inside but he was still hesitant to indulge in the fantasy. The risk of infection was simply too great. “Are you sure?” he asked before he could stop himself, his voice a little higher than usual.

Amusement looked interesting on Prussia’s face, still streaked with half-dried tears and the frown not entirely abated. He kissed Russia as he began thrusting his finger, mouth quirking into a small smile when he hit Russia’s prostate and Russia moaned needily. “You truly believe that after my episode I wish to hurt you?” he asked, words surprisingly light despite the vulnerability that played through his tendons and muscles like it had woven itself deep within Prussia’s being.

“What if I beg for it?” Russia asked, writhing slightly when Prussia stopped his movements and simply gave him a flat look.

“I think I can tell whether this is a type of pain you’d beg for,” he answered before adding a second finger and beginning to gently stretch Russian Empire, who acquitted the action with a surprised yelp. “Yes, I am very certain that I can be careful about this.” His wings twitched before the left one curled around his body, and Prussia began caressing Russia’s upper body with it. “Can you be patient?”

Russia’s lips were slightly parted as he fought to stay collected enough to keep up with Prussia’s easy banter. But he’d never possessed Prussia’s ability, to keep up even when he was being actively deprived of sleep. Russian Empire's mind, torn between lust and an insistent fatigue, was not ready to follow along with Prussia’s. This must be what Prussia meant whenever he claimed Russian Empire was spoiled. “Depends on whether you want me to be.”

Prussia chuckled indulgently, and Russia felt strangely patronised at how easily he yielded to a person who for all intents and purposes should be the one falling apart currently. Russian Empire could see the fear behind Prussia’s gaze, how much physical contact he initiated – legs, wings, hands, even their faces not very far apart – and his eye kept flickering to Russia’s pulse in his neck, tracking the faint movement of blood. He kept quiet too, as if he needed to make sure he could hear Russia’s blood running. And yet, it was not Prussia who seemed like he was falling apart. “Brat,” Prussia murmured, trailing kisses over Russia’s chest. “You’ll be patient.”

Before Russia even had the chance to open his mouth and retort – not that he had any idea what he wanted to say – Prussia pressed a third finger inside, scissoring them apart within Russian Empire’s body and encouraging him to make more noises with his gentle but insistent movements. “You’re quite demanding this night, luna,” he finally spoke, trying to ignore how his body was aching to come. He was sure Prussia wouldn’t allow him but Russia was not the best at holding out when he had exactly what he wanted right in front of him.

“Hm,” Prussia made noncommittally, neither agreement nor denial, and Russian Empire’s thoughts scattered once again when Prussia twisted his fingers just so, still very careful of his talons but determined to bring Russia to the brink of insanity with his hands alone. “Are you close?” he asked after a while of having Russia writhe on his fingers, stopping whenever Russia’s stomach would knot itself too tight.

“You know I am, you menace,” Russia pressed through grit teeth, fighting to keep his eyes open to commit Prussia’s expression to memory. He had seen plenty of his fear already, but it was delicious like this – just beneath the surface so Prussia could act comfortable all he wanted but Russia would know the truth because he knew Prussia and his tells and he’d use that to his advantage if only to further his love for him until he’d take his last breath. His eyes slipped shut when Prussia pulled his fingers out, clenching his muscles in vain. “You are a cruel, cruel man.”

There was a slick noise and Russian Empire fought to open his eyes, catching on the movement of Prussia’s wrist as he slowly stroked himself. He looked delightful like this, on his knees with his thighs spread just enough for Russia to have a clear view of what exactly was going on, his cock – curved slightly to the right and weeping with precome – twitching whenever his hand reached the bottom of the shaft, and, finally, his other hand right atop Russia’s heart. “You enjoy it,” Prussia answered eventually, pushing Russia’s right leg up and gesturing for Russia to keep it in place.

“I do but—” Russia interrupted himself with a soft moan when Prussia slowly pushed the head of his cock inside of him. He clenched around the intrusion, as if testing the feeling, and Prussia grunted in response, head falling forward, black hair spilling down like ink. With Russia's hands busy holding his own leg up and out of Prussia’s way, he felt restrained in a quite unusual way. “...but I still have a right to complain about it.”

Prussia’s lips twitched slightly – Russia couldn’t tell whether he wanted to smile or frown, perhaps both – and he slowly pushed forward. He was breathing quite heavily, though clearly it wasn’t from his dream anymore. Russian Empire let go of his leg with one hand to catch Prussia’s, lying still on his chest, not even digging his talons in. He squeezed Prussia’s hand almost exactly at the same time as Prussia bottomed out. Prussia's head snapped up again, his hair wild around his face, giving him a hunted look, but his smile was so sweet. Russia’s hand wandered up Prussia’s arm, until he could sling it around his shoulders and pull him forward. Their foreheads touched, Russia cradled Prussia’s jaw, petted his cheek and pressed a little too insistently against his throat until Prussia’s breath hitched high and vulnerable, betraying that as much as he pretended to be alright now, he was decidedly not. That suspicion was confirmed further when Russian Empire met Prussia’s eyes and saw the wetness like a pool around his irises. He inhaled sharply, about to speak, when Prussia kissed him and began to thrust.

His movements were slow, languid, taking pleasure in the rise and fall of an action that usually burned them both alive. This was still fire, of course, Russian Empire felt it in the way the stretch burned just the slightest bit, in the way his legs shook uncomfortably in their position, and in the way moans burned through his airway in a staccato, mirroring a piece from an Austrian composer he had been introduced to recently. But it was comforting, like a campfire, cozy instead of destructive. Prussia remained uncharacteristically quiet, though not as a punishment. He was focused, concentrated, and Russia knew he was still listening to the blood pumping through his veins. His movements gained a frantic edge, slightly more cruel, slightly harsher as he approached his orgasm. Russian Empire thanked him by growing louder, letting Prussia hear the life that was still nestled within Russia’s chest. It was, all things considered, a surprisingly quiet affair in general. The air was filled with Russia’s breathy moans, the occasional grunt from Prussia, and the near silent slick noises from Prussia’s movements. Every now and then a ruffle from Prussia’s feathers or the sheets below them joined the fray, only to then drift away like leaves on a tree.

Despite his pleasure, Russian Empire had the chance to see as colour returned ever so slowly to Prussia’s cheeks – the exertion painted it first and was then joined by something akin to relief, the knowledge that Russia was right here, beneath him and oh so willing to be defiled as long as Prussia kept looking at him. Prussia came as quietly as he had been throughout the whole ordeal. His hand clamped around Russia’s while his hips stuttered and he spilled himself inside, a whine stuck back in his throat that he refused to let out as if he feared the sound could take Russia away from him again. He fell forward afterwards, his head resting on Russian Empire’s collarbone as he reached down to finish his lover off as well. At the first touch to his cock, Russia noticed just how pent up he had become as the night had progressed. Despite focusing entirely on Russia during their scene, Prussia hadn’t let him come, denying his release at every opportunity and Russia wasn’t even sure if it had been intentional – a part of him, the one that always grew a little too obsessed with whatever he sunk his teeth into, felt thrilled at the prospect of Prussia edging him without intending to do so.

He let go of his leg completely, a dizzying rush trickling down it as he released it from its uncomfortable position, and slung his arms around Prussia’s shoulders, crushing their bodies together until he could nearly feel Prussia’s stomach against the head of his cock. “Please,” he murmured almost plaintively, tilting his head so that Prussia’s hair tickled the tip of his nose. Prussia made an amused huff against his skin and doubled his efforts until Russia’s hips were bucking. Right on the precipice of release, Prussia bit Russia’s collarbone and he arched his back as he came all over their chests.

Prussia released Russia's skin beneath his teeth, bringing his hand up to his mouth and licking the semen from his fingers. He shuffled back to slip from Russian Empire’s body and then just slumped onto his body, his ear above Russia’s heart once more. “Alright,” he breathed into the even denser silence. “You’re here.”

Russian Empire couldn’t help but snort, his mind foggy with his recent orgasm and the sleepiness that still tugged at him insistently. “Glad you noticed,” he teased, pressing a kiss into Prussia’s hair. “You’ll sleep in my bed tomorrow and you better not leave my side until you’ll have to leave for Berlin.”

Prussia brushed his nose against the underside of Russia’s jaw, placing a kiss right next to his Adam's apple. “Very well. That can be arranged,” he answered, words slurring together as the vigilance streamed from his mind into pleasant, tired warmth. He was entirely pliant in Russian Empire’s arms when he added, “Pardon me for waking you.” Russia’s response was to pull Prussia closer, a soft hum on his lips, already drifting back to sleep.