Author's Note: I...I apologize. Th-this pairing is just so delicious to me, but I don't know why.

It's not like Heracles tried to fall asleep at meetings. His boss had already berated him several times for missing key pieces of information, and Heracles had even drank a strong cup of coffee before arriving at today's world meeting. But not twenty minutes into the discussion, surrounded by loud and boisterous nations, with the only fan in the room not working and a heavy heat weighing down on him, Heracles could feel his eyelids drooping.

Damn. Not that Heracles was too upset about this. Sleeping was better than listening to Alfred. It was better than listening to Arthur. And it was better than glaring daggers at the nation sitting next to him.

You would think the world would be aware by now how much he disliked Sadiq Adnan. But here he was, for the second time in a row, sitting at the end of the table with the Turkish nation on his left. Grumbling to himself at his bad fortune, Heracles fitted his face into the crook of his elbow and dozed off.

He was awoken a short time later by the feeling of something landing on his leg. Still drowsy, Heracles reached down to swat the thing off. Then he realized that thing was a hand, with a large palm, thick fingers...he looked to his left. Sadiq's face was turned slightly away, his eyes focused intently on the discussion at hand, but Heracles could tell, even with part of his face obscured by that damn mask, that the bastard was wearing a shit eating grin.

Heracles violently swatted Sadiq's hand off his thigh, and tried to push his chair away from the nation. It didn't work, mostly because Sadiq had twined one of his legs around the base of Heracles's chair to keep him put. Heracles glared at him, and then tried to sleep again, content on ignoring the bastard.

Then the hand was back, and this time when Heracles reached over to push it away Sadiq's other hand was there to grab his wrist. Heracles tried not to make a noise, as he didn't want to disrupt the other nations, but there was a brief under the table scuffle as the Greek nation tried to pull his hand from Sadiq's grip.

"Sweetcheeks," the older man chuckled softly. "Let's play a game."

Heracles glared at the man, temporarily ignoring the awful nickname.

"No." he snapped, and tried once more to free himself.

"That wasn't a question, brat." Sadiq told him under his breath. Heracles chanced a glance at the head of the table. None of the other nations were looking their way, either doing something else or watching the presentations with intent.

"μπάσταρδε!" he snapped. "Let go!"

Sadiq complied abruptly, releasing his wrist, and as Heracles reeled, surprised by the loss of contact, Sadiq replaced his hand squarely on Heracles's crotch.

Heracles froze, sucking in a breath through his teeth. This was not a game Heracles wanted to play, especially not with Sadiq. When Sadiq's palm began moving in a circular motion, Heracles almost bit his tongue. That bastard.

He glared angrily at the Turk, but Sadiq had turned back to the meeting, a pleasant expression on his face as he continued to fondle Heracles's groin, running his fingers teasingly up and down the inside of Heracles's thigh, applying just the right amount of pressure to make the Greek wince with a combination of pain and shameful pleasure.

Heracles cursed as his body began to respond - the blood rushed to his groin and his pants tightened, giving Sadiq more to touch. Heracles winced and huffed, trying not to make a sound and draw any attention to him. Sadiq seemed amused by the younger man's efforts.

Heracles's hands shot down to his lap and began shoving viciously at Sadiq's wandering palm. Sadiq gathered the clothed outline of Heracles's cock in his hand and squeezed once, warningly - it was enough to send sparks of heat throughout the Greek's body.

The stroking was disturbingly distracting, more so than the Greek would like to admit, and Heracles couldn't help a little whine from escaping him. Gupta looked over at him, questioningly. Heracles grinned weakly and mouthed, 'papercut' at him. Gupta nodded and turned away again.

Shit. Heracles was too proud to ask the Turk to stop, but he was practically gagging at the thought of this creepy old man he had once served under touching such an intimate part of him.

The brunette's eyes widened when Sadiq's strong fingers found the button on his jeans. He undid it easily, and the Turk gave a cough to cover the sound of him pulling down Heracles's zipper. The Greek's erection sprung easily up to greet him and Heracles hid a groan by dropping his head down and pressing it against his arm. He swore he heard Sadiq chuckle as the man's hand wormed its way into Heracles's boxers and...

Oh. Heracles bit down on the inside of his arm. The heat, the delicious heat of Sadiq's palm and the friction from his callouses and the way he rubbed his thumb so teasingly over Heracles's leaking tip...it took all Heracles had not to cry out at the touch.

By this time Heracles had realized exactly what game Sadiq had in mind, and the younger man was determined not to make a sound, not to give the once great Ottoman Empire the satisfaction of knowing that he was getting to him. But it was hard. Sadiq's hand on his cock reminded Heracles of his time under the Empire (sometimes under him literally, as it were). Contrary to how Heracles might behave now, it wasn't all bad - it wasn't all good either, but Heracles couldn't deny that him and Sadiq had a relationship.

Whether this was a love-hate relationship or a hate-hate relationship really depended on the day. Or if Sadiq was in his line of sight. Sadiq was handling his cock now with irritating yet nostalgic expertise, stroking slowly, torturously teasing, making sure to brush the tip as he went. Heracles wanted to moan, or scream, or curse, or do all three while punching the Turk square in the face, but instead he fought to keep it in, toes curling in his boots as the muscles in his legs tightened against the pleasure. Almost against his will, his hips began lifting to meet Sadiq's strokes, and he heard the man chuckle in triumph. Heracles scowled down at the table, face bright red with shame. Finally he couldn't take it - he needed to make a sound, and he brought his knee upwards, smashing it into the underside of the table.

"Grgh!" he gasped, the pain momentarily distracting him from the hand on his cock. This time, conversation actually stopped.

"Heracles?" Arthur looked over at him with an air of annoyance. "Are you quite all right?"

"Just...hit my knee..." Heracles managed between gritted teeth. Well, that hadn't helped. Sadiq had stilled his stroking, though his warm hand remained wrapped around the base of his cock, squeezing gently once in a while in a steady pulse.

Arthur didn't look convinced, but dropped the matter. Once the talking had resumed, so did the stroking.

"Careful," Heracles heard the Turk laugh under his breath. "You'll hurt yourself if you keep bangin' things around like that."

Heracles pressed his lips together, then decided to just swallow his pride. "Sadiq!" he hissed between clenched teeth. The hand on his cock stilled. "P-please stop." he managed, humiliated at having to ask the man that.

Sadiq looked like he was actually considering it, before leaning slightly towards Heracles. He pointed at the paper in front of the Greek like he was explaining something, all the while whispering huskily into Heracles's ear, "You know the thing I miss the most about you, boy?"

Heracles glared down at the paper and shook his head stiffly. A lazy smile curled the corners of Sadiq's mouth upwards.

"The way your face looks when you're cummin'." he breathed, giving the younger man a dirty wink from behind his mask. Heracles felt the blood rush to his face.

"Well, keep missing it." Heracles muttered back, trying to keep the tremor out of his voice. "Because you're not going to see it again."

Sadiq chuckled, low in his throat, and that made him seem even more predatory. "We'll see." he dismissed, then released Heracles's cock.

The Greek practically deflated in relief and maybe a tinge of disappointment. It was all about pushing the boundaries, and he and Sadiq had been doing that for years. It was not like the Turk to let up without at least another attempt.

Then, in plain view of everyone at the table, in plain view of Gupta who was casting another suspicious glance their way, Sadiq brought his hand to his mouth, licking a line up his entire palm, and then quick as a flash brought his hand back down, stroking Heracles with a sense of urgency, the wetness of his hand only increasing the torture.

Gupta's face paled and his head snapped to the side, the white keffiyeh on his head obscuring his features. Heracles screwed his eyes shut, and a few wanton pants escaped his lips. His brow was speckled in sweat, and he wriggled in his seat as Sadiq dared to drop his hand lower, cradling his balls teasingly.

"Yeah, I've got you now, boy." Sadiq hissed, pinching at the sensitive flesh, determined to draw some sort of vocal reaction from the young man.

Heracles turned his face from Sadiq, biting his lower lip, but the Turk pinched the inside of his thigh sharply.

"No, no, no, brat." Sadiq drawled. "Look at me."

Heracles almost whimpered. Then, he turned his eyes to Sadiq. The older man looked disturbingly similar to how Heracles imagined himself to look - bright eyed, flushed, mouth slightly open from exertion. In Heracles's peripheral, he could see the man's own erection straining at the front of his trousers. They locked eyes and Heracles could see smugness, hunger and desire, and that was what set him off, more than the stroking and touching and teasing.

The youth's back tensed and he quickly buried his face in his arms again despite Sadiq's moan of disagreement, his body giving an erratic spasm as he erupted, shamefully, into Sadiq's hand.

He heard the man chuckle again (damn, that was getting annoying...), before Sadiq untucked the front of Heracles's shirt so he could wipe his soiled hand on the Greek's flat stomach. Heracles drew a shuddering breath, then dared to lift his head.

No one had noticed. No one had noticed Sadiq Adnan giving him a hand-job in the middle of a conference. Heracles quickly zippered himself up, untucked the rest of his shirt to hide his stained crotch, and stood.

"I need to go to the bathroom." he mumbled to the table, and left the room before anyone could say anything.

After a few minutes Sadiq stood up, his file folder positioned right over his crotch area, and followed.

Author's Note:

μπάσταρδε - Greek for bastard (thank you very much to Blme125 for the correction!)

IAMSOSORRYICAN'TWRITEPORN D: