fic: He Always Gets His Man
Sep. 30th, 2011 11:56 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bonnefoisTitle: He Always Gets His Man
Series: Hetalia
Character/pairing: France/Canada
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 1250
Author's note:springkink: September 22nd
Axis Powers Hetalia, France/Canada: uniforms - Canada is a Mountie after all, and France... /![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
kink_bingo: dressup. Based on this bit of official art.
The flight had been delayed, so unfortunately, he'd missed the gathering. He'd been looking forward to sparring with England, speaking with America and enjoying a morning together.
There were still empty cups at the table, though America had gone, possibly with England, possibly not, depending on whether they were speaking to each other this week. Kumajiro lay at the bottom of the table, surely sleeping off whatever he had filched from the table. Canada looked up and smiled, and then, winked.
He wore the traditional mounted police uniform, with a red coat decorated in black, black pants with a rim of red on the sides. His hat lay on the table somewhere, yet his hair was still pleasantly tousled from when he must have worn it earlier.
He was handsome like this, strong, and even refined. He always loved a man in uniform, and Canada filled out his quite nicely. France had to just sit back and admire him for a moment. Even tousled, his hair looked so silky that it made France want to run his fingers through it. It seemed he was still using the special conditioner and shampoo he'd left for him last time.
"What's this?" France asked.
"Some sort of photoshoot thing for charity?" Canada shrugged. "Something like that."
"No one told me. Did England wear a robe and wizard hat?"
Canada laughed. "No, no. This was something different. North American different, eh," Canada said with a smile.
France leaned down and kissed him. He tasted sweetened coffee, slightly maple flavored. Canada pulled him into his lap, and France was only too happy to let him.
"I saved you some," Canada said. "It's probably cold by now, though..."
"Thank you," France murmured. He ran his hands over the thick material of his red shirt appreciating the feel of it under his hands. "This is very nice."
Canada flushed in pleasure. "I'm rather fond of it, eh."
"Mmm....Mon amour," France murmured. He tugged on Canada's collar, and licked along his jaw.
"France..."
France leaned back ever so slightly, and gave Canada his best seductive smile.
"You see, there's a problem. I'm terribly hungry, but not for coffee or doughnuts," France said. He nipped at Canada's neck, which rewarded him with a sigh as Canada wrapped those deceptively strong arms about him.
"That isn't a problem, that's called you being you," Canada said
"Leave the uniform on," France said, stroking the material.
"As you wish, milady," Canada said. There was a few moments of shifting as they rose up and readjusted. Then Canada lifted up France, carrying him effortlessly in a bridal style. "The Royal Canadian Mounted Police is at your service. You might as well get all your 'mount' jokes out now. I'm sure you have dozens. But remember, we always get our man."
"That you do," France said. He was feeling up every part of Canada he could reach, as Canada carried him off like plundered goods. "I could make one, however. Care for a ride?"
"I'd have to take my pants off," Canada said. "I thought you wanted the uniform on"
"Mmm,I can live with you in just your shirt," France purred.
France helped him peel out of the black pants until they were draped over a chair. Under that, it was just a black pair of briefs. France leaned down and nipped at the waistband. He felt the solidity of Canada, growing hard against him. He moaned and licked over the growing bulge, not even bothering to take the boxers off.
Canada had begun to work on undoing France's dark pants. One hand was working at his zipper, while the other was quite insistently groping his ass. He felt Canada's fingers running down the seam, pressing against the cleft and he rocked his hips up into the touch.
France pulled up from his attentions for a moment. "I taught you well."
"Yeah...." Canada said. "I learned from the best."
France chuckled, feeling quite smug and proud of himself as he bent back down. He began to slip his fingertips under the waistband, but kept teasing, licking at the material covering Canada's now fully erect cock. Canada was rocking his hips, trying to get France to speed up the pace and push his boxers down already, but France kept at his pace.
Canada reached out to the bedside, stretching out just far enough to reach the assorted packets and bottles he kept there.
"Unnnnn....just put a condom on l-let me ride you," Canada moaned. He flipped the foil-wrapped package France's way. It was a lubricated variety.
France took it between two fingers, but continued his excruciatingly slow attentions as Canada squirmed, trying to get more sensation than France was willing to give him.
"Not quite yet," France said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out some lube, for he was always prepared, at least when it came to certain things. Canada groaned, but his groans turned to those of pleasure when France began to massage lube into the cleft of his ass. He didn't just go straight to stretching and preparing Canada, but teased as Canada squirmed and moaned at his touch. He blushed lightly over the ring of muscles with his thumb, and Canada tried to maneuver him inside, jutting his hips in a pelvic thrust.
"Please," Canada said.
France couldn't help but smirk. It was a very nice sight, seeing his lover all dressed up in a uniform–or the top half, at least–on all fours and begging him to fuck. He stroked down the line of Canada's fine, red uniform, which was so well cut to his body. Canada pointedly put his ass a little higher, wriggling a bit.
France leaned in and stroked Canada's face. "Ride me," he murmured.
Canada broke the foil and slowly rolled the condom down his cock. France brushed his finger's through Canada's silky hair as he did. It was a long, intimate moment that felt almost wrong to break, but break it they did as Canada carefully climbed up on him.
"Drop your hips, mon amour."
Canada was all too happy to comply. He let out a particularly slutty moan as France gripped his ass and steadied him. For a few seconds they didn't move, didn't think, and it their was the sound of their breaths coming faster. He was sheathed in tight heat, deep in Canada's body. Then Canada began to rock his hips, and the sensations increased tenfold. He gripped tight on Canada's ass, leaving marks on the pristine skin as Canada rode him. An expression of pure ecstasy was on his face. And France forgot about tariffs and trade agreements, wars and economic downturns until his world was nothing but his skin and Canada's skin and there they met.
They moved like this until he felt the pressure bursting in him, only amplified by Canada's deep moans.
He savored the sound of him, his adorable, alluring sex expressions, the feel as they reached their apex together.
France may have not been part of the mounted police, but he always got his man.
Series: Hetalia
Character/pairing: France/Canada
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 1250
Author's note:
springkink: September 22nd Axis Powers Hetalia, France/Canada: uniforms - Canada is a Mountie after all, and France... /
kink_bingo: dressup. Based on this bit of official art.The flight had been delayed, so unfortunately, he'd missed the gathering. He'd been looking forward to sparring with England, speaking with America and enjoying a morning together.
There were still empty cups at the table, though America had gone, possibly with England, possibly not, depending on whether they were speaking to each other this week. Kumajiro lay at the bottom of the table, surely sleeping off whatever he had filched from the table. Canada looked up and smiled, and then, winked.
He wore the traditional mounted police uniform, with a red coat decorated in black, black pants with a rim of red on the sides. His hat lay on the table somewhere, yet his hair was still pleasantly tousled from when he must have worn it earlier.
He was handsome like this, strong, and even refined. He always loved a man in uniform, and Canada filled out his quite nicely. France had to just sit back and admire him for a moment. Even tousled, his hair looked so silky that it made France want to run his fingers through it. It seemed he was still using the special conditioner and shampoo he'd left for him last time.
"What's this?" France asked.
"Some sort of photoshoot thing for charity?" Canada shrugged. "Something like that."
"No one told me. Did England wear a robe and wizard hat?"
Canada laughed. "No, no. This was something different. North American different, eh," Canada said with a smile.
France leaned down and kissed him. He tasted sweetened coffee, slightly maple flavored. Canada pulled him into his lap, and France was only too happy to let him.
"I saved you some," Canada said. "It's probably cold by now, though..."
"Thank you," France murmured. He ran his hands over the thick material of his red shirt appreciating the feel of it under his hands. "This is very nice."
Canada flushed in pleasure. "I'm rather fond of it, eh."
"Mmm....Mon amour," France murmured. He tugged on Canada's collar, and licked along his jaw.
"France..."
France leaned back ever so slightly, and gave Canada his best seductive smile.
"You see, there's a problem. I'm terribly hungry, but not for coffee or doughnuts," France said. He nipped at Canada's neck, which rewarded him with a sigh as Canada wrapped those deceptively strong arms about him.
"That isn't a problem, that's called you being you," Canada said
"Leave the uniform on," France said, stroking the material.
"As you wish, milady," Canada said. There was a few moments of shifting as they rose up and readjusted. Then Canada lifted up France, carrying him effortlessly in a bridal style. "The Royal Canadian Mounted Police is at your service. You might as well get all your 'mount' jokes out now. I'm sure you have dozens. But remember, we always get our man."
"That you do," France said. He was feeling up every part of Canada he could reach, as Canada carried him off like plundered goods. "I could make one, however. Care for a ride?"
"I'd have to take my pants off," Canada said. "I thought you wanted the uniform on"
"Mmm,I can live with you in just your shirt," France purred.
France helped him peel out of the black pants until they were draped over a chair. Under that, it was just a black pair of briefs. France leaned down and nipped at the waistband. He felt the solidity of Canada, growing hard against him. He moaned and licked over the growing bulge, not even bothering to take the boxers off.
Canada had begun to work on undoing France's dark pants. One hand was working at his zipper, while the other was quite insistently groping his ass. He felt Canada's fingers running down the seam, pressing against the cleft and he rocked his hips up into the touch.
France pulled up from his attentions for a moment. "I taught you well."
"Yeah...." Canada said. "I learned from the best."
France chuckled, feeling quite smug and proud of himself as he bent back down. He began to slip his fingertips under the waistband, but kept teasing, licking at the material covering Canada's now fully erect cock. Canada was rocking his hips, trying to get France to speed up the pace and push his boxers down already, but France kept at his pace.
Canada reached out to the bedside, stretching out just far enough to reach the assorted packets and bottles he kept there.
"Unnnnn....just put a condom on l-let me ride you," Canada moaned. He flipped the foil-wrapped package France's way. It was a lubricated variety.
France took it between two fingers, but continued his excruciatingly slow attentions as Canada squirmed, trying to get more sensation than France was willing to give him.
"Not quite yet," France said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out some lube, for he was always prepared, at least when it came to certain things. Canada groaned, but his groans turned to those of pleasure when France began to massage lube into the cleft of his ass. He didn't just go straight to stretching and preparing Canada, but teased as Canada squirmed and moaned at his touch. He blushed lightly over the ring of muscles with his thumb, and Canada tried to maneuver him inside, jutting his hips in a pelvic thrust.
"Please," Canada said.
France couldn't help but smirk. It was a very nice sight, seeing his lover all dressed up in a uniform–or the top half, at least–on all fours and begging him to fuck. He stroked down the line of Canada's fine, red uniform, which was so well cut to his body. Canada pointedly put his ass a little higher, wriggling a bit.
France leaned in and stroked Canada's face. "Ride me," he murmured.
Canada broke the foil and slowly rolled the condom down his cock. France brushed his finger's through Canada's silky hair as he did. It was a long, intimate moment that felt almost wrong to break, but break it they did as Canada carefully climbed up on him.
"Drop your hips, mon amour."
Canada was all too happy to comply. He let out a particularly slutty moan as France gripped his ass and steadied him. For a few seconds they didn't move, didn't think, and it their was the sound of their breaths coming faster. He was sheathed in tight heat, deep in Canada's body. Then Canada began to rock his hips, and the sensations increased tenfold. He gripped tight on Canada's ass, leaving marks on the pristine skin as Canada rode him. An expression of pure ecstasy was on his face. And France forgot about tariffs and trade agreements, wars and economic downturns until his world was nothing but his skin and Canada's skin and there they met.
They moved like this until he felt the pressure bursting in him, only amplified by Canada's deep moans.
He savored the sound of him, his adorable, alluring sex expressions, the feel as they reached their apex together.
France may have not been part of the mounted police, but he always got his man.
