DOTR: Thank you guys so much for liking my RoGer fics so much. I hadn't known you guys enjoyed them so, but thanks, I appreciate all the love, so here's a oneshot for you.
Originally this was thought up last year with a friend who was supposed to roleplay with me, I don't really know what happened so I just finished it. Probably not as good writing it without her, but I tried. I hope you guys like!
Ancient Greece let out a pout. It had been weeks now and still there was no sign of her Empire anywhere. He wasn't in his room, he wasn't in his house, hell, he wasn't even in his capital!
With her lover nowhere to be found, what was Greece to do? Find out where in the known world he was, that's what!
So, Greece searched and eventually went to her lover's boss and asked him. Caesar gave her a simple reply—
"He's out."
That answer wouldn't sit well with her, so she decided to 'interrogate' the boss a little, just enough to where the human would tell her why her empire no longer resided where he should. The Roman was all too happy to tell the angry Greek, and when Greece found out it was then she realized this was casual; Rome, her lover, was out fighting enemies and gaining more land or his Empire. She should have guessed so herself, but it seemed he was gone far too long for her liking.
So, asking again, Greece softly inquired as to when Rome would return and as to where he was at the moment.
Again, Rome's boss didn't see any reason why the female nation should know and so denied answering. Greece, being a former Spartan, knew exactly how to get the answers out of him, and as she left with the exact latitude and longitude Rome resided, Greece knew her ways of persuasion would never change, no matter how much Rome persisted on it doing so.
"So he's in the north, fighting those barbarians," Greece spoke to herself as she folded her arms. "No doubt his 'bodyguard', Germania, is with him. Gods, the only reason that barbarian is with him is so he doesn't get lost by turning a tree."
After a moment, or two, Greece's olive green eyes caught sight of two young lovers and her heart sighed. A soft smile formed on her lips before the electric jolt of an idea erupted inside her. Her soft smile curled sharper at the edges and her adoring gaze darkened.
"I know exactly what I'll do," the Grecian said to herself as she straightened her form. "I have been without my lover for far too long. I'm sure he misses my warmth just as much as I miss his."
Greece let out a chuckle before shaking her head.
"Oh, Caesar will have my head for this, but I will have Rome's . . ."
Greece inhaled an evening breath before placing a hand over her breast to feel the fast pace of her heart.
"Calm yourself, Greece. You know the perfect way to get your lover to come to you."
Greece knew that her lover's boss always insisted that Rome take none of his lovers while he ventured out, so his mind could be focused solely on the battle and his enemies. It was a good reason because the empire was easily distracted by the form of a woman—any woman. Greece had seen the Roman from afar fighting his enemies and she knew that his boss was right and his mind was only in battles when away from her and the other women he enjoyed.
Still . . .
"I'll get his mind away from battle for a little while," Greece said to herself, her fingers coming to touch the tips of her lips as if to hush her voice to a soft whisper, even though no one around her dared listen to her.
Greece knew of a witch that was said to contract such concoctions that she could use them on her enemies and friends alike. Greece had the perfect brew in mind too. Now, she had to take a small journey and see if the witch could somehow come up with this.
"The cry of a whippoorwill, the heart of a giant salamander, the eye of a newt . . . damn it, where is that eye? !" As Britannia ruffled her dress to look for the object she hadn't noticed a being enter into the cave she was practicing in. In fact, she was just on all fours searching for the thing when she even noticed another's presence.
Her green eyes widened and in an instant she whipped her head around, only to smack her forehead neatly against the table leg. "Dah! Damn it! What ye wan' 'ere?" Once the redhead managed to stand to her feet and focus her sight she beheld that another woman stood before her—another nation as a matter of fact.
"Are you Britannia?" the dark haired woman had asked. Britannia only crossed her arms and picked up an incense stick as if to ward off the nation a little. "I alm," the redhead answered. "And wha' ye want me for?"
"I've heard rumors about your . . . witchhood, and that you indeed contract potions for a price," the intruder said. "If that is indeed the truth I wish to buy one."
"I've got many a bottle, missy," Britannia spoke, smirking the corner of her lips. "But I dunna contract my spells to just anyone. What be ye name?"
"Doesn't matter," the brunette said. "All you need to know is that this potion is for the Roman Empire."
Now Britannia couldn't help but bare that wicked grin plaguing her mouth. "Tis it? How fun." She turned and dug through her bottles until she turned and held up a small vile. "This 'ere is vary potent pois'n. If ye can slip this to 'im, then 'e'll be dead within a minute."
"You misunderstand me, I'm not here for that kind of potion," the other nation laughed, placing her soft hand upon her lips. "I am indeed a lover of the Empire, so put that bottle away before I destroy it."
Britannia blinked once in confusion before she placed the bottle quickly into a pocket in her apron. She clasped her hands together and now stood nervously before the woman who stood proud and tall, no doubt she held greater power than Britannia could ever hope for in her lifetime.
"Apologies, I've just . . . heard things about this Empire from my cousin, Gaul. Nothin' good from 'er."
"No, I should think not, coming from Rome's enemies." The brunette stood still and quiet for a moment before stepping forward and harshly rummaged through the bottles, even tossing a few down to shatter on the stone floor without so much as a care to the nation standing before her.
"Do ye mind? If I wanted to I coul' set a nausty curse upon ye and ye fam'," Britannia warned and in that warning the other halted and withdrew her hand and tucked it back into her beautiful gown.
"Very well, but I seek a potion that will help me woo the man back into my bed. The sheets have grown cold as you may know," the other said.
"So ye wan' a love potion?" Britannia asked. "Are ye not his lov'r alreedy?"
"That I am, but I need something so strong that it will take his mind off anything else but me; my hair, my eyes, my body, anything about me. Something so strong that he'll even ignore his boss just to be with me," she informed.
Britannia drummed her chin in thought and turned to her potions. She picked up a few and looked at them before she gasped and turned toward the woman nation. "I mights 'ave one to ye likin' what would be ye price?"
"You name it and I shall give it," the other said with great confidence.
"'ere." Britannia offered the bottle the size of a small win jug and instantly the brunette took it out of her grasp. "In thar is a potion I concocted ages ago for a customer. They took a nasty fall before I coul' deliv'r it to them, but since it's of no use to me now . . . I'll give ye the potion for a chest of gold."
The other nation let out a small chuckle before shaking her head. "Alright you can have it. I was prepared to give you a whole boat of gold for it, but it appears you only want one chest."
Britannia opened her mouth to protest her decision, but the brunette held up her hand to silence her.
"Too late now, witch. Now, how does this work per say?"
"Damn it!" Britannia cursed with a roll of her eyes. "Well, since ye asked me so kindly . . . all ye 'ave to do is get the damn man to consume it and if ye be the first being 'e behelds then 'is mind and body will be yours."
"I see now." The brunette held up the bottle in the candlelight and smiled, almost as wicked as Britannia herself. "Is it safe to mix into any drink?"
"Odorless and colorless, tis safe," Britannia assured.
"Perfect." Then, with a snap of her fingers, armored men appeared from the cave entrance, each holding the handle of a very heavy laden chest overflowing with gold. They set it down before the witch and then stood before their country. Britannia was amazed by their build and only looked at the brunette female nation with envy. "Thank you for your service, Britannia, I should send a messenger informing you of the success or failure of the potion." With that she turned with her men and left, but Britannia knew she couldn't have the last word.
"It won' fail. I guarantee it!" But the brunette was gone. With a huff, the redhead crossed her arms and turned back to her latest potion. It was bubbling slightly in the cauldron but she knew she was still missing important ingredients. "Na, na, tha' won' do." It was then Britannia turned and picked up a few pieces of gold and threw them in, watching the new concoction start to fire and spark and bristle over. Cutting off a few locks of her hair she tossed it in as well and smiled. "Tis time for my own abilities to bear fruit."
Greece waited for her caravan to stop just when they got close to the Roman camp. Once they had she let her men dismount while they packed her horse with the wine sacks. "I know Rome loves the wine I make and I know he hasn't had a taste in a long time."
"But, milady, you know that Roman rules refuse women access in the soldier camp," one of her men said once he was finished packing the sacks of wine to her saddle.
"I know," Greece informed. "which is why I'll be quiet. Rome always sets his tent against a hill, furthest from the other tents, so it's not too hard for little ole me to find it without his men seeing."
Dismounting from their horses, Germania landed on the ground first, holding onto the mane to steady himself. He was exhausted and worn and from riding so long he was sore and found it hard to stand up straight. His client was in no less condition and as he dismounted after him, his designated bodyguard. The Roman fell straight to the ground, too tired to even hold onto anything.
Germania would have laughed at the sight of the Empire falling ungracefully from his stead but he was just too tired. He didn't proceed to even help the man up; he let the other soldiers already in camp and rested help their nation up.
"Long ride back to camp, lord?" the soldiers asked as they helped the brunette up. "Si, si," Rome said with an exhausted sigh, glad for his men helping him to his feet, too tired to even be embarrassed about his fall. "Germania and I ran into a few obstacles and then we ended up off course. Too tired to explain the full details right now."
"Well, your tent and bed is prepared with warm food and fur to your liking, lord," his men said. "Rest for as long as you wish."
"Si, I will," Rome replied with a nod as he let go of his supporters and went into his tent. Before closing the flap he turned and motioned toward Germania. "Make sure the German is given food and a place to rest as well. I wouldn't have made it back without his guidance. Grazie, Germania."
The blond only nodded his head, letting out a "ja" before letting a few of the soldiers escort him to his designated place of stay for the guides.
The day was still young so Rome hadn't rested for long. In fact, all he seemed to need were a few hours of sleep. As he sat up from his cot he noticed the fresh food placed upon his desk and even the sacks of wine. He was famished but the awful scent of his clothes perturbed him and moved him to take up fresh garment and head toward the river they aligned their camp with to cleanse himself.
His bodyguard and guide, Germania had done the same. He took the same hours to rest his body before rising and heading toward the river to wash. He, on the other hand, did not carry with him numerous rich clothing in which to dress himself daily. What he had on his back was everything he could claim and so, finding a decent and quiet spot, further away from where the soldiers regularly bathed he took his seat and began to cleanse himself.
He knew he wasn't welcome among them and rightfully so—they only saw him as a barbarian. The German often wondered why Rome insisted on hiring his services when his men clearly hated his existence. It didn't matter at the moment, what did was getting his clothing clean.
Germania sought to clean his garments first and then his body. Seating himself in the shallow of the river he went to work scrubbing his tunic and then his cloak. As he did he pulled the garment closer toward his blue eyes. Widening in surprise he let out a groan. There was an obvious gash in the fabric and he knew exactly how he got it.
"Rome," the German let out a growl, clenching his hands into fists as he held the cloak. He knew they had traveled too far off course due to a sudden attack by a band of bandits and that cost them a day. So, since they had to sleep outside, Rome, the prima donna that he was, refused to sleep on the ground and so Germania, trying to serve his client best, offered up his cloak so the pretty boy wouldn't dirty his armor. The man tossed and turned in his sleep and no doubt snagged a root.
Letting out a sigh, Germania put the cloak down to dry with the rest of his clothing and said, "No matter, I'll ask the women to mend it once I return home."
With that the German went to bathing himself; just a simple rinse of water to get the dirt off. When Germania dunked his head underwater and arose he could smell the fragrances coming from the roman soldiers bathing upstream. He looked their way and watched as they laughed and joked around in their own language. He had learnt a few words, but never enough to speak a complete sentence. Besides, he could understand them very well; just speaking it was a different story.
Running his fingers through his long golden hair, Germania watched while the soldiers took turns sitting before a man who began mending the length of their hair, being sure to keep it short in the usual haircut.
"Glabus, your hair just grows too fast. You should have come to me earlier," the barber spoke to the soldier seated before him in nothing but his own skin.
"I know and I'm sorry. It's funny though? Imagine the fright the wife back home would have upon my return that I should look like a barbarian, hah, with my hair down to my arms!"
The soldiers broke out in a fit of laughter and Germania found himself ceasing to comb his hair. Looking down at his locks he wondered if it really were that odd. He had been to Rome's place before and no men—save for the whores—wore their hair like this. Did this really make him look like a barbarian?
A sudden splash knocked him out of his thoughts and Germania gasped from the cold waters hitting his face. Letting out a short cough, he glared at the initiator of the wave, of course he was to meet a goofily grinning Rome who had a towel around his waist and one over his shoulder, which he tossed onto a rock near Germania's drying garments.
"Lighten up, Germania," Rome spoke in choppy German to his guide. "They can't see past cultures."
Germania only closed his eyes and soaked out his hair. "Neither do you, might I remind you—and I wasn't offended by their words."
"Yes you were," Rome insisted as he tore of his towel and dunked himself into the deeper part of the river. "Shit, shit! This water is cold!" Germania could not suppress his laughter from Rome trying to take his hand at Germanic cursing. It was just—with his accent—it just wasn't Rome.
"Then stay in the shallows," Germania suggested, flinging some water at the Empire while Rome pulled himself back toward the shallows with his guide, laughing. Germania smiled and continued to cleanse him.
"This better work," Greece mumbled to herself as she poured a few drops into the wine offered to Rome next to his food. When she went to turn she looked into a mirror and made sure her dress was prim and proper. "This was always Rome's favorite dress . . . easiest to get out of." With a smile she brushed through her hair once and went to leave out of the back she had loosened to get into the tent.
Just as she had she turned and let paranoia overtake her. So she went back to the goblet of wine and decided to ease her conscious in being sure. She poured more than a few drops into the goblet and just as it was about to spill over she caught herself and stopped. When she heard the guards outside speak to someone she darted out of the tent just in time for the front flap to open and in walk a barbarian guide.
"Rome?" Germania asked, looking around and finding the empire not. "Where did he go? He just vanishes after bathing without letting me tell him that my contract's up."
Germania crossed his arms and decided to wait for the Roman. He didn't like to be kept waiting, but that man always made his own time. He could find himself waiting for hours if he felt like it.
And so, an hour did pass, and then another, and before Germania knew it, the sun was beginning to set.
"Shit!" Germania cursed, rising from Rome's seat behind his desk. "I wanted to leave before sundown!"
Germania always had good plans; leave before sundown and reach his village by nightfall. Of course that was if he had a few hours to spare for the travel and a well-rested horse. He had come here to ask Rome for the gold he was promised and then for a fresh horse. But of course he's found himself waiting.
Lowering his head Germania felt a grumble in his belly. He was famished and had forgotten to eat. He looked down at the food prepared for the Empire and, my, did it look appetizing. He knew it was rude to eat someone else's food, but it was also very rude to stand someone up.
And so, planting his behind down in Rome's seat Germania took up a grape and popped it into his mouth. It was very ripe and juicy and Germania enjoyed the taste. He wasn't going to eat all of the food, just a little to make it look as if it hadn't been touched. In a way he was secretly getting back at Rome for leaving him waiting. Sure Rome, being so dense, won't even know but whatever.
After a particularly dry piece of cold meat, Germania became unreasonably thirsty and took the goblet of wine and decided on taking one large gulp. That didn't go as perfectly planned as Germania thought. After one gulp his throat dried and he couldn't help but take another before he continued to down the wine of every last drop. With a hard cough Germania's shaking hand dropped the cup. His limbs suddenly became stern and he found it hard to even step anywhere. Placing his hands upon his throat he coughed again. The thirst was still there and he couldn't understand what had happened or what was happening.
Looking down at the liquidless cup with wide and confused eyes, Germania found himself falling, not straight down, but back until his body hit the frame of Rome's cot and he froze, unable to move or even get up. His shaking hands continued to rub at his heated throat. He attempted to call out to the guards in front of Rome's tent but all that came out was a horrible wheeze and by that sound alone Germania began to panic.
Poison? The drink was poisoned? How, why? I hadn't smelt anything wrong with it. It was meant for Rome? Those were the only thoughts going through Germania's mind while he stared up at the ceiling of the tent.
With a wheezing inhale Germania closed his eyes and tried to focus all will power on his locked limbs, bidding them to move but nothing worked. His heart pounded so hard against his chest that Germania felt as if he could run a million circles around the camp, his energy reserves rising high and frightening the Germanic. Was he to energize himself to death? He's never heard of any such poison.
Just as Germania struggled against the concoction inside his system he heard the guards outside, they were laughing and with their laughter arose a familiar one—it was Rome. The empire was waving at the guards merrily while he opened the flap of his tent and entered. The moment he turned and saw the German gasping and wheezing on his cot, he dropped his newly sharpened weapons to the floor and rushed over toward him.
"Germania!" Rome gasped in panic, placing his hands upon the blond nation's face and rubbing gently. The nation had opened his blue eyes at the brunette Empire. The pupils dilated strangely just then and by the way the candlelight reflected the hues seemed to almost glow unnaturally. "Gods, what happened? !"
Rome was no fool; he had seen plenty of reactions to poison and these symptoms were definitely caused by poison. He turned and looked down to see an empty goblet down next to his desk. When everything clicked, he understood that Germania had drunk his wine that someone had poisoned and now the German was fighting for his life.
Rome's eyes darkened with anger and just as he rose to retrieve his guard to find out who had done this, strong hands grasped him by toga and pulled him back down.
"Ger—? !" Just as Rome called out to the nation in confusion pale lips smashed against his own tan ones. With wide round eyes Rome looked down at the German who had just tilted his head to deepen the kiss.
As much as Rome's romantic side wished him to stay put and let Germania get it out of his system—because he knew that it was only a matter of time for a nation fell for his godly looks—he had to pull away. With a deep inhale and heavy exhale, Rome blinked in confusion.
"Germania, are you feeling well?" he asked before the Germania suddenly locked his arms around the Empire and pulled him close, attempting to kiss him once more, but Rome turned his head just in time and so Germania was stuck sucking onto his neck. "Damn it, what kind of poison is this? !"
Just when Rome had said those words, he hadn't noticed a quiet intruder slink through the back of his tent, next to where he had his armor stand. There the female nation came with a smile about her face and dark olive eyes, but before she could even speak a word and show herself in the candlelight she froze and watched as the blond-haired barbarian wrapped leg and arm around the Roman and pulled him close as he kissed his thick neck.
Eyes fluttering in confusion, Greece could only stand there in shock, her mouth agape as she looked down at the dropped goblet. Just who had drunk the wine?
"Germania! This isn't you . . . is it? !" Rome questioned while the German squeezed the air out of his lungs with his powerful thighs. Rome let out a groan as Germania rolled his hips and grinded against him. Taking hold of his knees, Rome forced them apart so he could rise. Once he got his footing he backed away from the blond if only just to catch his breath. "Let me . . . let me get the healer. They can see what's wrong with you."
"Nein! I'm fine!" Germania shouted as he sat up quickly, looking directly at Rome. "I hate your healers. They know nothing of what I need!"
Rome turned and eyed Germania cautiously. The blond didn't look well and he especially didn't act well. Rome knew Germania and he had a feeling if he wanted to come on to him—it wouldn't be so sudden and spontaneous like this. He felt there would be a brawl and one of them would lose a few teeth before nursing each other's wounds and then Germania would finally admit what the other nations and countries have over the past couple of centuries—that they're in love with Rome. Yes, that is how Rome saw it and his predictions were usually pretty accurate, this however was not in his prediction and therefore wrong.
"And what do you need, Germania?" Rome asked, crossing his arms and watching the barbarian closely. "I know you've been poisoned and if I can get the healer he can help me figure out what kind of poison it was. I'm sure he'll give you something to help you expel it from your system."
"I know what I need," Germania spoke again, but the sound of his voice was strange and Rome only grew more concerned.
When Germania arose from the cot and crossed the room he placed his hands upon the Roman and looked straight into his eyes with bright blues. "I need . . . I need . . . you. I need you, Rome."
Once again Germania pressed against him and kissed him. Rome's slight hesitance to turn and run after a healer cost him his footing. Germania swung his leg around Rome's and tripped the man. Rome landed on the ground, breaking the kiss as Germania landed upon his chest. A groaning "oof!" escaped Rome's lips before Germania descended upon him again, refusing to let him catch his breath.
When Germania pushed his hands down Rome's tunic, the empire pushed him and sat up. "Germania, let you know I would gladly accept your advances if I didn't fear for your health! Now let me up so I can find a doctor!"
Germania shook his head and mumbled something; something Rome was having trouble understanding. Now he could understand Germania's language, but just what the German was saying, he didn't know. When he said it again, this time louder, Rome still didn't know what he was saying, or at least he assumed.
"Fuck me," Germania commanded.
Rome wasn't one to admit that saying those words and in the Germanic language had to have been the single most arousing words he had ever heard. Rome closed his eyes and tried to suppress his urges that suddenly arose. Mentally he commanded his heart to stop beating so fast and pumping much needed blood southward to his—
"Stop it, Germania. Right now," Rome commanded. He opened his amber eyes and looked at the pale nation with authority and it was dangerous to see Rome like this—though it seemed not to deter Germania at all.
Without saying anything at all and with such ease Germania took a hold of Rome's toga and pulled, easily ripping and parting the fabric. Germania's eyes, though awfully dilated, held determination and that straight serious face of his was not changing. Not a word was said by any as Germania's bare hands touched the large chest of Rome and slowly rubbed the beautifully tanned skin in circles before traveling down toward rock hard abs. Just as they touched them, Rome shot out a hand and grabbed a hold of Germania's wrist quite hard. He jerked the nation to the side, watching for any reaction to pain as he twisted his wrist. There was no hiss or any other sound one would make once their wrist was twisted. No, Germania only kept his eyes on the Roman, no pain at all appearing in his features.
Now, Rome pulled Germania again, this time closer and kissed him hard. Neither knew who opened their mouth first, but their tongues did meet and would not be parted until the two of them choked. Rome felt nails digging into his skin and dragging down across his arms. Once he let out that moan, Germania only decided it was good and so pressed his nails deeper into Rome's skin, this time drawing blood.
Rome decided to switch their positions and so he rolled and pinned the German under him. He looked at him for only a moment, giving the both of them only the needed amount of time to catch their breath before they claimed the other's lips. Both kissed hard, so hard that Germania eventually bit down upon Rome's lips and drew blood and as Rome sucked on Germania's tongue the blond withdrew and moved to bite Rome's perfectly sculpted square jaw.
Rome was the perfect lover and he saw the gentle and patient lover as perfect but Germania underneath him was nothing but an animal, pure want and need with nothing but fangs and claws. To be honest Rome has never dealt with lovers like these—Greece could be close when she gets into that Spartan mainframe, but Germania . . . he was just so barbaric.
But Rome never denied liking it.
"Ease your teeth, shall you?" Rome pressed Germania hard against the ground of his tent and made sure his hand remained on his neck and away from that sharp mouth of his. "The men should think I was attacked by a wild animal after tonight."
Germania was once again silent, but Rome only chuckled and leant down, suckling the pale slender neck before smiling to himself and taking a hold of Germania's tunic and ripping it all the way through. At once he had he pressed his lips to that chest that rose and fell rapidly. He took great care of showering affection to Germania's torso so his mind wouldn't be plagued with the worry of where he was going to find another tunic. Rome certainly knew Germania only packed this pair of clothing and so he sought to rip every article the German had on him, so his excuse to get him in Roman clothes in the morning would be plausible.
Taking a nipple into his mouth, Rome swirled the bud with his tongue a few times until he heard the German moan. Once he had he bit down and then he felt long fingers wrap themselves in his locks of hair. Germania hadn't pushed him away and so Rome continued the same show of affection toward the other one.
Before Rome had a chance to attach his lips upon the pink patch of skin, Germania tugged hard at his hair and pulled him forcefully back toward his face so he could give him a deep and long kiss. In that passionate battle of tongues Rome ran his hands down Germania's sides and once they reached the fabric of his trousers he clung on tight and lifted.
Germania let out a gasp once he felt his body lift from the ground by Rome's hold on his pants. Granted it hurt just a little bit from the pressure the fabric pulled against his crotch, but once his back slammed against Rome's cot he sighed out in relief, lifting his hips and allowing the Roman to remove the article of clothing. Granted they didn't come off easily and so Rome just took to ripping most of it off the blond.
The moment Germania was free of his clothing he wrapped his arms around the Empire, needing to be close and to have skin on skin. He let out a moan from the feel of Rome's thick chest pressed against his pale one. Letting his hands run down the expanse of Rome's back he dug his nails in deep and scratched all the way down his spine, earning a groan and an arch of his torso.
"I won't be able to bathe in public if you keep doing this, 'mania," Rome said, letting out a painful chuckle before grabbing Germania's arms, his hands sliding down his arms until they clasp onto his wrists and shoved them against the pillows they laid upon. Germania only responded with moans and groans, his body writhing to and fro and he honestly didn't know why.
Squeezing his knees against Rome's sides again, Germania let out a growl. Rome only smirked down at him. Settling himself closer so that those knees didn't squeeze so tight, Rome caressed Germania's face. "Such a beautiful face, Germania, and yet you continue to act like a barbaric animal." Of course that wasn't any sort of turn-off for Rome, oh no, he was quite aroused and anxious in dominating this "beast" and just by the feel of his arousal pressed against Germania's felt so right.
Leaning down again Rome opened his mouth and attached it to the base Germania's neck and sucked hard and long, making sure to leave a horrible mark. Pulling back, he smiled at the red coloring and reveled in the thought it would turn a colorful shade of violet and how it would contrast against that beautiful white skin of his. In fact, the mark was so expertly done, Rome decided to create more of them, so he suckled on Germania's jaw and then on his shoulders and then on his pectorals. He could go on, but Germania began to become unsteady.
"Germania?" Rome questioned. "You've become paler. What's wrong?"
Germania was now panting heavily and looked up at him, sweat dripping down his forehead, his blue bright eyes nearly going red. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but he could only gasp. Once he closed his eyes he pulled his arms free from Rome and clung to his neck tightly, pulling the brunette's head down toward his own. They touched foreheads and remained there for a while; it was in that moment that Rome felt just how much Germania was burning inside.
"Your skin is aflame," he said, feeling even more heated hands fall from his neck toward his hips, pulling him closer. "I really should fetch a healer."
"They can't heal me," Germania whispered, his lips caressing Rome's stubble before they began to suckle southward, upon his Adam's apple. "I know, I know . . . I just, I need . . . you."
"You're certain?" Rome asked, looking him dead in the eyes, but he saw no sense in those eyes, those bright blue eyes that looked in pain. Germania only closed his eyes, nodding his head once before he opened his eyes and pulled the Roman's hips close again.
Nothing more was needed and Rome leaned up, quickly discarded the rest of his ruined toga before holding the other country close. He could feel their arousals pressing against the other and once Germania began grinding his hips; Rome couldn't stop himself by following the dance.
"Stop," Rome moaned out, but the German never ceased in his ministrations, in fact the command only seemed to spur him as he pressed and rubbed harder—but it could be because Rome said the word in Latin or it could just be that poison. "Stop, stop!" Rome finally realized he needed to say the words in German and once he did he slammed Germania down by his shoulders. Ragged breaths and groans echoed into the night and the flickering light of the candles slowly dwindling down made motion by the two seem to slow to a speed so supernatural.
Rome went to say, "Let me prepare you," but no words slithered their way out past his lips. Instead, his gaze darkened and peered deep into Germania's eyes, holding their gaze as he rubbed his hand against the sweat-soaked thigh of Germania before reaching down and touching his arousal. Slowly, ever so agonizingly slow Rome rubbed until he gathered a portion of Germania's pre cum. Now he let his fingers caress downward, finding their way to Germania's entrance he pressed in his index finger until the knuckle touched the outer ring of muscle. Germania froze and immediately grabbed Rome's wrist, ripping his hand away and holding it against his jaw.
"Nein," Germania whispered, though his breathing was heavy. "Inside, don't wait."
Rome blinked once before making sure with Germania as he nodded slowly and moved his hands to take hold of the blonde's thighs and pushing them further apart. Pressing the head of his manhood against Germania's entrance he slowly entered. Hearing a muffled groan from the German caused Rome to stop and consider his newest lover. Germania would have none of that. He reached up and grabbed Rome by the jaw and pressed himself to him and kissed him deep while his legs wrapped tightly around Rome's waist, the heels of his feet digging into his spine as he brought him deeper at a faster speed than Rome would have liked.
Rome opened his mouth as if to cry out a moan. His eyes widened at the feel of Germania's virgin walls squeezing and sucking him deeper. For a time he had even forgotten how to breathe.
Looking down at the German who trembled, Rome brought his hands up and caressed his red face, and then he leant down and kissed him deep upon the lips before moving and kissing each eyelid and then each cheek. Germania arched when Rome pulled out only to press back in at such a slow pace. His moan that escaped his lips sounded more like a whine than a sound of pleasure.
"Faster," Germania gasped out. "I need you deeper."
"So commanding," Rome chuckled, kissing his way down Germania's throat and leaving more marks here and there. "But when are you not?"
Placing a hand on each side of Germania's head, Rome steadied himself as he pulled out and thrust himself back in, his hips striking Germania faster and with such a force that Germania cried out. The pleasure in his voice urged Rome to only press harder and harder into him.
Germania's hands had found Rome's hips and he clawed there just like he did anywhere else he clung to. Rome could feel the urgent tug from the German as he thrust into him, as if he couldn't get enough and he was dying because of so. The moans were so needy that escaped Germania's lips and when Rome thought he was doing his best he watched with wide eyes as Germania, sat himself up, still clinging to his hips and pressed him backwards until he leant far enough back where Germania rolled the both of them and Rome landed with a thud on his back.
Staring up in shock as he watched the German preform a move mostly skilled bedroom participants executed. His agape mouth only remained as he watched the blond take control and roll his hips around and then down sharp and fast, taking Rome's hands and placing them upon his thighs where they traveled up toward hips and then passed to take handfuls of stern buttocks.
Rome was rarely one to give up reins in sex, he liked to be in control most of the time, but with Germania, the way he rode him and gasped out dirty Germanic words, Rome was in 7th heaven. His grin couldn't have been wider as Germania pressed down upon him and drove his manhood deeper into tighter bliss.
Still, there really was only so much Rome would let someone overpower him.
When Germania leaned down and made to kiss him, Rome turned his head and instead grabbed a handful of golden locks, pulling off to the side and forcing the German to fall onto his side, the Roman slipping out of him. Rome now held Germania there, on his side and with his chest pressed against his back. Rome kissed his shoulder and arm affectionately before bringing his knee between Germania's leg and propping a leg up.
Rome entered again, seeming to pick up where he left off; fast, hard thrusts that could nearly split the blond in two. Germania reached back behind him and held onto Rome's arm wrapped around his waist. Looking down, he watched Rome's other hand tighten upon his arched leg and as he pulled back it seemed the empire pressed in deeper. Germania lulled his head back against Rome's chin and cried out in relief.
Rome gasped out and leaned his head down to kiss Germania's exposed neck, his lover offering a pleased groan. It wasn't long until he loosened his arm from Germania's waist and caressed his fingers down his abdomen toward a hard rod, jutting out like an obelisk. Hot and red it was and Rome just couldn't help but give it a firm squeeze. Germania cried out, thrashing his head to and fro. Rome felt the first buck from Germania's hips and wondered if he could time his thrusts just right then Germania would . . .
"AH!" Germania cried out, his eyes shooting open to reveal bright blues, glowing so unnaturally as Rome fucked him in time with his bucks into Rome's hand.
Rome felt himself harden, if possibly more, inside Germania at the cry and wanted to hear it again and again. So Rome pressed his chest against Germania until the blond was forced face first into the cot. There Rome began pounding into him, thrusting harder and harder while Germania cried out into the pillows underneath him. Rome eventually grew tired of the muffled screams and so threw all of the pillows off of the cot and let Germania's screams fill his hears like the beautiful music they were.
Leaning down Rome kissed the place between Germania's shoulder blades and loved how they tensed, especially when he let his tongue roam the area before traveling up toward the back of Germania's neck where he bit down, hard.
In that moment Germania let out a gasp and Rome felt something hot pour onto his hand. He looked down and noticed Germania had spilled, but he was still so hard. Rome kissed his shoulders and continued his ministrations until Germania came for the 2nd time and in that moment Rome felt Germania's walls clamp tight around him and he couldn't stop himself. He spilt every last drop he had and thrust a few more times to ride out his orgasm.
Heaving out a few heavy breaths, Rome pulled out and sat up, catching his breath. Germania only laid there, motionless until Rome noticed the strange lack of movement. He reached over, concern in his eyes. "Germania?" he questioned as he touched the blonde's shoulder. "Are you well?"
Just as Rome went to lean closer, Germania touched his hand and looked at him, his eyes still glowing a bright blue. A soft smile appeared on his lips, one such as Rome had never seen before and his heart skipped a beat at the sight. When the barbarian wasn't scowling or cursing, he could be really . . . beautiful.
Germania began pulling upon his arm. Rome let him and leaned down, watching Germania close his eyes and purse his lips, waiting for Rome's expert lips. With a smile of his own, Rome kissed Germania and when Germania parted his lips for his tongue to enter, Rome got a nasty surprise.
Germania spit up bile just as Rome's tongue entered his mouth.
Darting back quickly Rome choked out the bile that was thrown up into his mouth. "What the hell? !" he gasped at the disgust. He then turned and watched Germania heave over his cot and spit out purple bile, choking and gagging on it.
"That's the wine that he consumed!" Rome realized and just as soon as he jumped away, he jumped toward Germania and slapped his back, trying to help Germania get it out. "Come on, Germania, you can do this. Throw it all up. That's it!" Taking the German by the waist he pressed against his stomach over and over until Germania had nothing more to choke out.
Once all of it was upon the floor of his tent, Rome turned Germania around in his arms. "Germania? Germania, are you well now? Germania?" The blonde's eyes returned to their normal hue but they quickly rolled back into his head and Germania lost consciousness. "Germania!"
Rome then took up the blond and wrapped a blanket around him, ready to dart out and find a healer. "When I find out who placed that poison here, they're dead!" Rome swore as he left the tent, unawares that the perpetrator had actually been there all along, and was in fact still inside his tent, hiding right next to his armor stand.
Greece was currently holding her bleeding nose, trying with all her might to stop the blood from seeping out, but she failed miserably and the red substance had gotten all over her beautiful dress. That was the least of her worries as of right now, though.
"Damn it," she cursed quietly to herself when she turned and exited the tent as quickly as possible. Once outside she held up the empty jug and cursed at how much she had used of it—and of how little there had been in the vile in the first place. "I was cheated out of my gold for this little amount. I should get her to return my chest of gold!"
Just as she stormed off she slowed her pace once an idea struck her. She held up the empty jug and considered her options. "I cannot deny that I thoroughly enjoyed that show . . . more so than I would have if Rome had drunken the potion." Walking again she spoke to herself. "I do have a ship full of gold . . . I could possibly get Britannia to create the potion again and when the opportunity arises and Rome hires that barbarian for his services again . . . well . . . I could have some more fun."
With that thought in mind Greece walked with more determination in her step and met her men upon returning to their rendezvous spot.
Rome was relatively quiet when he was saddling Germania's horse that morning. In fact, so was Germania who stood next to a tree, leaning on it for support. Rome knew he had to keep his eyes off him; Germania didn't like everyone staring at him whilst he was forced to wear a toga due to his own clothing being savagely torn apart the previous night. Of course Rome couldn't help a few peeks, Germania just looked so good in togas—especially in one of his togas.
With a groan after he finished saddling the horse he rubbed his shoulders and felt the burning scratches Germania had left. They all hurt and restricted Rome's movement a little. It had been a while since he felt like that.
"Your horse is saddled, laden with provisions, and fresh for the journey back to your home," Rome said, offering Germania the horse. Germania had stood there for a while before he pushed himself away from the tree and made to walk toward the horse only a few feet away. In an instant Rome noticed the hard time the blond was having in simple steps so he came to him and offered him a shoulder to lean on. Germania didn't take it at first, but once he realized he couldn't make it to the horse alone he accepted Rome's help.
Rome would have laughed and gloated about how it was he who made sure the blond barbarian couldn't walk, but after the serious issue with the poison, he couldn't find himself to make any fun of the matter.
"Easy, there you go," Rome said as he helped settle Germania into the saddle, of course he got many glares from his hired bodyguard of course saying nothing much as he took the reins in his hands.
"Thank-you for the horse," Germania mumbled out, his eyes still not meeting Rome's as he kicked his steed into a trot.
It only took a few trots and a single canter to watched Germania stop and nearly doubled over in his saddle. "Germania!" Rome called out as he took hold of the horse and wrapped his arms around Germania's waist to help him off. "I do suggest my lovers rest a little while before returning to their home."
"I AM NOT YOUR LOVER!" Germania spat in perfect Latin, surprising Rome to the point he almost dropped the angry German.
So, with no more exchanged of words, Germania groaned in pain as Rome helped him back down to the ground. What was he to do but have to stay and rest up a bit before returning home?
Germania's never felt so embarrassed in his life and swears this will never ever happen again. Rome couldn't help but feel a tad bit sorry for Germania's predicament and could only wish one simple wish, I wish that poison would have erased memories as well.
DOTR: So yep, I may or may not add random oneshots that pertain to Greece getting Britannia to make more love potion just to watch some free yaoi porn . . . Hope you guys enjoyed and thanks for liking my oneshots! P.S. Sorry for the horrible accent I gave Britannia, I really have no idea how to write accents, but I tried : )