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silverfoxflowerTitle: We Don't Need No Education
Fandom: Hetalia
Genre: Slash, PWP, AU
Word Count: ~1300
Pairing: France/Prussia, Voyeur!Spain
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: High-school aged boys, frottage, swearing.
Notes: Written for this prompt on the![[info]](https://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif?v=3)
hetalia_kink meme. Totally edited.
Summary: Gilbert skips class and fucks around with his best friends (literally).
Disclaimer: Not mine, don't sue.
It was a sun-baked spring day, too nice to waste on world history or any of that shit.
Gilbert picked a bright spot and sprawled across the concrete, lips stretching into an indolent smile as he rested his head on his interlaced fingers. A perky spring breeze drifted through his atmosphere, made the chain-link fence around the roof clink and the hair ruffle around Gilbert’s face. Yeah, so much better than World History.
A shadow interrupted his sunbathing, and Gilbert squinted upwards irritably. “Man, Francis, what took you so long?” In the corner of his vision, he saw Antonio stretch out in the shadow of the door, immediately nodding off to sleep.
Francis snorted, gracefully folding himself into a sitting position. “That wench, Kirkland, caught me. He also confiscated my cigarettes.” With a tragic sigh, Francis tugged the ponytail out of his hair, “All I did was grope him a little … it was practically a greeting!”
Gilbert snorted. “If you’re so horny you’d do Kirkland, than that’s a problem.”
“Hm…?” Francis smiled lazily. One hand somehow found its way to Gilbert’s thigh, kneading it gently. “Is that a proposition, mon cher?”
Gilbert was quiet for a millisecond.
Then, “Why not?” He climbed over Francis’ lap, slipping two fingers under his tie and languidly tugging it loose. It was a good day for sex, and Gilbert hadn’t gotten any since Liz became a frigid bitch and flounced off with that tight-assed pianist. Sure, he and Francis hadn’t gone further than a few rounds of Gay Chicken, but fuck, he smelled good, and Gilbert wasn’t too picky right about now.
Francis’ eyes narrowed, as if he expected Gilbert to yell take backsies! and punch him on the arm or something, but, com’on, Gilbert had only done that, like, twice. This week. Finally, Francis said, “Wondered if I’d ever see the day when my dear Gilbert grew jealous of Kirkland.”
“Fuck you. I’m bored and you’re easy, it’s not gonna get any more complicated.” Gilbert replied pleasantly, pushing Francis down and grinding his hips in a circular motion. Yeah, his cock liked that, rubbing against the seam of his uniform pants and meeting an answering hardness between Francis’ legs. They both groaned louder than necessary, smirking at each other when Antonio’s head popped up.
“Do you mind, Antonio?” Francis turned his head, meeting his friend’s bemused eyes.
Antonio, sitting in the shade with his back against the wall, gave them the thumbs up with a lazy smile.
“Don’t fall asleep!” Gilbert called, working on his zipper. “I’ll show ya this prick’s face when he comes!”
“He’ll see yours first, my love.” Francis purred, sitting up. Gilbert tried to suppress a shiver as the rough material of Francis’ khaki’s ground against his own bare cock. With a snort, Gilbert’s fingers flew to Francis’ fly, unbuttoning it clumsily and shoving his pants down his thighs.
A snap of elastic (“Zebra print? Really?”) and Francis’ cock sprang free, lean and dark, with pre-come just beginning to pool at its head. Gilbert’s mouth watered at the thought of sucking it down, rolling the heavy cockhead against his tongue and feeling it pulse against the back of his throat-
Suddenly, Gilbert drew back, scowling in incomprehension.
Francis’ surprised smile said that he had noticed the same thing. “Cheri, I’m bigger than y-“
“Shut the fuck up!” Gilbert flailed, punching Francis on the shoulder. “I-I’m just not all hard yet!”
It was exactly the line Francis had been hoping for, and Gilbert blanched as the look on his friend’s face turned decidedly predatory. “Well,” Francis leaned forward, pressing close as his buttons began to dig into Gilbert’s skin. Every word resonated, hot and heavy in Gilbert’s ear. “I can help with that.” With one lean hand, he clasped Gilbert’s cock and began stroking slowly, expertly, adding an extra twist to his wrist that made it start drooling pre-come like a motherfucker.
“F-fuck…” Gilbert barely restrained himself from fucking into the tight circle of Francis’ hand. He couldn’t stop moaning as his thighs turned to rubber. “Oh…fuck…” Francis was awesome, better than he had expected. And a fucking tease, his grip never really firm enough, long enough, his thumb flicking the bundle of nerves under Gilbert’s cockhead, smearing pre-come all along his length, playing with his oozing slit-
Gilbert didn’t realize he was moaning like a bitch until Francis whispered in his ear, “Ah, Cheri, it seems that all Antonio will see will be your crying face when you come~…”
“Fucking cheat.” Gilbert panted, prying Francis’ hand off of his cock. “The only reason why you’re so good is because you’re a total slut.” Francis merely laughed.
Grumbling, Gilbert hooked his legs behind Francis’ back and gripped both their cocks in one hand. Okay, maybe not the brightest idea when he was so fucking close. Gilbert closed his eyes and shuddered, cursing his oversensitivity. The good news was that Francis didn’t seem to be doing much better. Gilbert felt him hiss, burying his face in Gilbert’s shoulder.
The heat was becoming unbearable, and it wasn’t just the sun. They rocked together, to the pull of Gilbert’s hand, sweating under their collars, sharing breaths and insults that grew clumsier by the minute.
Gilbert’s wrist was beginning to hurt and he had lost all finesse, jerking the both of them off frantically, hips bucking into his hold. Suddenly, he moaned as he felt Francis’ hands cup his ass and give a gentle squeeze.
“Next time, let me play with this, Cher.” Francis’ tongue edged Gilbert’s ear.
“As if!” Gilbert panted, but then thought of Francis’ long cock stretching his ass, pounding his prostate and making him scream. As if reading the direction of Gilbert’s thoughts, Francis smirked and tightened his grip on his ass. He began sliding Gilbert up and down across his lap, using his hold to start a new friction that made them both groan.
Gilbert swore under his breath, trying desperately to starve off his orgasm even as his hips rolled eagerly under Francis’ palms. He ran a hand through his hair, surprised when it came back wet.
“Hey, Tony, how long has it …ah…b-been?” Gilbert bit out, just remembering that his friend had been there the entire time.
“Ah … twenty minutes?” Antonio flipped open his cellphone. “Almost period four.”
“Let’s hurry this up!” Gilbert snapped, “Lunch’s in five minutes!”
Instead of replying, Francis angled his head upwards until their mouths brushed and, then, when Gilbert drew back sharply, followed and licked a wet stripe across his clenched lips.
“W-what…?” Gilbert’s grip on their cocks loosened in surprise, and Francis took that opportunity to take charge, squeezing their together with a firm grip and pumping skillfully, viciously, as Gilbert answered with repeated moans, hands migrating upwards to clutch at Francis’ shoulders.
Francis began attacking Gilbert’s mouth with well-placed nips, teasing it open and then skillfully rousing Gilbert’s tongue into play. With a moan, Gilbert succumbed and began kissing back. Fuck, he never kissed friends. This better not get complicated.
Two minutes to lunchtime and they were both damp with sweat, thin white uniform shirts sticking, transparent, to their backs and chests. Their kiss tasted of salt and the cigarettes Francis had been smoking earlier. Hungrily, Gilbert bucked his hips, feeling heat run all through his body, his cock pulsing hard and heavy in Francis’ hand, the tightness in the bottom of his stomach that told him-
“You fucking, bloody, cutters! Get back to class this instant!”
Oh fuck.
Gilbert didn’t even realize he came until he looked down and realized that his pants were ruined.
Antonio started snorting with laughter.
Twenty minutes later, sitting outside of the principal’s office, Gilbert looked at Francis, and they both silently realized that they never really did find out who came first.
Gilbert smirked sideways as Francis began casually petting his thighs again. “Hey Tony.”
Antonio looked up from his text message.
“You free after school?”
Fandom: Hetalia
Genre: Slash, PWP, AU
Word Count: ~1300
Pairing: France/Prussia, Voyeur!Spain
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: High-school aged boys, frottage, swearing.
Notes: Written for this prompt on the
hetalia_kink meme. Totally edited. Summary: Gilbert skips class and fucks around with his best friends (literally).
Disclaimer: Not mine, don't sue.
It was a sun-baked spring day, too nice to waste on world history or any of that shit.
Gilbert picked a bright spot and sprawled across the concrete, lips stretching into an indolent smile as he rested his head on his interlaced fingers. A perky spring breeze drifted through his atmosphere, made the chain-link fence around the roof clink and the hair ruffle around Gilbert’s face. Yeah, so much better than World History.
A shadow interrupted his sunbathing, and Gilbert squinted upwards irritably. “Man, Francis, what took you so long?” In the corner of his vision, he saw Antonio stretch out in the shadow of the door, immediately nodding off to sleep.
Francis snorted, gracefully folding himself into a sitting position. “That wench, Kirkland, caught me. He also confiscated my cigarettes.” With a tragic sigh, Francis tugged the ponytail out of his hair, “All I did was grope him a little … it was practically a greeting!”
Gilbert snorted. “If you’re so horny you’d do Kirkland, than that’s a problem.”
“Hm…?” Francis smiled lazily. One hand somehow found its way to Gilbert’s thigh, kneading it gently. “Is that a proposition, mon cher?”
Gilbert was quiet for a millisecond.
Then, “Why not?” He climbed over Francis’ lap, slipping two fingers under his tie and languidly tugging it loose. It was a good day for sex, and Gilbert hadn’t gotten any since Liz became a frigid bitch and flounced off with that tight-assed pianist. Sure, he and Francis hadn’t gone further than a few rounds of Gay Chicken, but fuck, he smelled good, and Gilbert wasn’t too picky right about now.
Francis’ eyes narrowed, as if he expected Gilbert to yell take backsies! and punch him on the arm or something, but, com’on, Gilbert had only done that, like, twice. This week. Finally, Francis said, “Wondered if I’d ever see the day when my dear Gilbert grew jealous of Kirkland.”
“Fuck you. I’m bored and you’re easy, it’s not gonna get any more complicated.” Gilbert replied pleasantly, pushing Francis down and grinding his hips in a circular motion. Yeah, his cock liked that, rubbing against the seam of his uniform pants and meeting an answering hardness between Francis’ legs. They both groaned louder than necessary, smirking at each other when Antonio’s head popped up.
“Do you mind, Antonio?” Francis turned his head, meeting his friend’s bemused eyes.
Antonio, sitting in the shade with his back against the wall, gave them the thumbs up with a lazy smile.
“Don’t fall asleep!” Gilbert called, working on his zipper. “I’ll show ya this prick’s face when he comes!”
“He’ll see yours first, my love.” Francis purred, sitting up. Gilbert tried to suppress a shiver as the rough material of Francis’ khaki’s ground against his own bare cock. With a snort, Gilbert’s fingers flew to Francis’ fly, unbuttoning it clumsily and shoving his pants down his thighs.
A snap of elastic (“Zebra print? Really?”) and Francis’ cock sprang free, lean and dark, with pre-come just beginning to pool at its head. Gilbert’s mouth watered at the thought of sucking it down, rolling the heavy cockhead against his tongue and feeling it pulse against the back of his throat-
Suddenly, Gilbert drew back, scowling in incomprehension.
Francis’ surprised smile said that he had noticed the same thing. “Cheri, I’m bigger than y-“
“Shut the fuck up!” Gilbert flailed, punching Francis on the shoulder. “I-I’m just not all hard yet!”
It was exactly the line Francis had been hoping for, and Gilbert blanched as the look on his friend’s face turned decidedly predatory. “Well,” Francis leaned forward, pressing close as his buttons began to dig into Gilbert’s skin. Every word resonated, hot and heavy in Gilbert’s ear. “I can help with that.” With one lean hand, he clasped Gilbert’s cock and began stroking slowly, expertly, adding an extra twist to his wrist that made it start drooling pre-come like a motherfucker.
“F-fuck…” Gilbert barely restrained himself from fucking into the tight circle of Francis’ hand. He couldn’t stop moaning as his thighs turned to rubber. “Oh…fuck…” Francis was awesome, better than he had expected. And a fucking tease, his grip never really firm enough, long enough, his thumb flicking the bundle of nerves under Gilbert’s cockhead, smearing pre-come all along his length, playing with his oozing slit-
Gilbert didn’t realize he was moaning like a bitch until Francis whispered in his ear, “Ah, Cheri, it seems that all Antonio will see will be your crying face when you come~…”
“Fucking cheat.” Gilbert panted, prying Francis’ hand off of his cock. “The only reason why you’re so good is because you’re a total slut.” Francis merely laughed.
Grumbling, Gilbert hooked his legs behind Francis’ back and gripped both their cocks in one hand. Okay, maybe not the brightest idea when he was so fucking close. Gilbert closed his eyes and shuddered, cursing his oversensitivity. The good news was that Francis didn’t seem to be doing much better. Gilbert felt him hiss, burying his face in Gilbert’s shoulder.
The heat was becoming unbearable, and it wasn’t just the sun. They rocked together, to the pull of Gilbert’s hand, sweating under their collars, sharing breaths and insults that grew clumsier by the minute.
Gilbert’s wrist was beginning to hurt and he had lost all finesse, jerking the both of them off frantically, hips bucking into his hold. Suddenly, he moaned as he felt Francis’ hands cup his ass and give a gentle squeeze.
“Next time, let me play with this, Cher.” Francis’ tongue edged Gilbert’s ear.
“As if!” Gilbert panted, but then thought of Francis’ long cock stretching his ass, pounding his prostate and making him scream. As if reading the direction of Gilbert’s thoughts, Francis smirked and tightened his grip on his ass. He began sliding Gilbert up and down across his lap, using his hold to start a new friction that made them both groan.
Gilbert swore under his breath, trying desperately to starve off his orgasm even as his hips rolled eagerly under Francis’ palms. He ran a hand through his hair, surprised when it came back wet.
“Hey, Tony, how long has it …ah…b-been?” Gilbert bit out, just remembering that his friend had been there the entire time.
“Ah … twenty minutes?” Antonio flipped open his cellphone. “Almost period four.”
“Let’s hurry this up!” Gilbert snapped, “Lunch’s in five minutes!”
Instead of replying, Francis angled his head upwards until their mouths brushed and, then, when Gilbert drew back sharply, followed and licked a wet stripe across his clenched lips.
“W-what…?” Gilbert’s grip on their cocks loosened in surprise, and Francis took that opportunity to take charge, squeezing their together with a firm grip and pumping skillfully, viciously, as Gilbert answered with repeated moans, hands migrating upwards to clutch at Francis’ shoulders.
Francis began attacking Gilbert’s mouth with well-placed nips, teasing it open and then skillfully rousing Gilbert’s tongue into play. With a moan, Gilbert succumbed and began kissing back. Fuck, he never kissed friends. This better not get complicated.
Two minutes to lunchtime and they were both damp with sweat, thin white uniform shirts sticking, transparent, to their backs and chests. Their kiss tasted of salt and the cigarettes Francis had been smoking earlier. Hungrily, Gilbert bucked his hips, feeling heat run all through his body, his cock pulsing hard and heavy in Francis’ hand, the tightness in the bottom of his stomach that told him-
“You fucking, bloody, cutters! Get back to class this instant!”
Oh fuck.
Gilbert didn’t even realize he came until he looked down and realized that his pants were ruined.
Antonio started snorting with laughter.
Twenty minutes later, sitting outside of the principal’s office, Gilbert looked at Francis, and they both silently realized that they never really did find out who came first.
Gilbert smirked sideways as Francis began casually petting his thighs again. “Hey Tony.”
Antonio looked up from his text message.
“You free after school?”
