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Methods of Persuasion

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She had known him long enough to be able read his moods in the tempo and tenor of the chords floating down the hallway and into their bedroom, normally such sweet and soft sounds at this time of night, nocturnes and romances that lulled her into sleep. But tonight Hungary could not ignore the discordant notes that slipped into Austria’s almost always flawless playing, tiny jarring moments that betrayed his unease, that told her of the disquietude of his mind making its way into the fingers that struck the piano keys.

She wondered at his distraction, wondered what it was that was taking him so far away from the music that gave him respite, as she slipped from the warm sheets of their bed and trailed quietly down the hall, footsteps muffled by the thick carpet and the soft swish of her hair against the silk of her robe. It brought back more memories than she cared to count when she paused at the threshold of the dimly lit room to lean against the door and watch the fine, firm line of her beloved’s back as he continued to labor through the Chopin.

Hungary had watched Austria for so many years, sometimes with admiration, at times with fear, occasionally with rage and disappointment, and then, more frequently, most dangerously, with love. She touched her fingers to the delicate china cup discarded on the corner table, finding the tea gone cold, abandoned by Austria in his single minded focus to untangle whatever worried knot was preoccupying him so. That his normally pristine sleeves are already rolled up to his elbows and his hair shows the tell-tale dishevelment of frustrated fingers reveals much to Hungary’s eyes, easing her worry, for in this bloodless performance there were no undertones of sorrow or anger, only tiredness and tension.

His shoulders stiffened with only momentary surprise when she draped herself gently across his back, letting her arms span around him, enfolding him in her concern, before she felt the almost resigned relaxation of his body, as though he knew he had been caught trying to exorcise his frustrations through the unfortunate butchery of some very lovely music. Hungary smiled, whispering a kiss across the top of his ear as her fingers stroked over the hands resting on the piano keys, light little touches to ask permission. Austria sighed and leaned into the swell of her chest, giving her a rueful, apologetic frown as he lifted one tired hand to stroke through the loose tumbling of her long hair.

“I am sorry, my dear,” Austria murmured gravely, always so serious, even in such moments of softness, “I should not keep you from sleep with such an unfortunate performance. It is inconsiderate of me.”

Hungary stifled a fond sigh for her formal, buttoned up lover, saying nothing as she pressed in closer, her hair spilling over his chest, her face so close to his that she could feel the sudden hitch in his breathing as her fingers moved gently over the keys, tapping out a few disjointed but familiar notes, letting Liszt echo in the quiet of the room.

“No need to apologize to me,” Hungary answered warmly, kissing the shell of his ear just to listen to the hitch in his breath, “Even when you are not at your best, you are still better than most.”
Austria stilled her fingers, letting the notes vibrate slowly into nothingness, laughing dryly, “You flatter me.”

Hungary bent further forward to nip at the serious curve of his jaw, worrying the skin with her teeth in that unmannerly way that never failed to unravel something base and unmeasured in her buttoned up love. She scoffed and let him feel the sweetness of her smile as she murmured, “As if I have ever wasted time with flattery.”

She felt the shift of Austria’s frown into a wry smirk beneath her cheek as he dropped their hands from the instrument to pull her forward and kiss the corner of her mouth. “True, you have far better forms of persuasion.”

“So, can I persuade you to tell me what is wrong?” Hungary asked lightly, while she slid between the spread of Austria’s knees and the keys of the piano to push her hands into his less than perfect hair, liking the way it fell mussed and wilted between her fingers at the end of a long day.

He looked at her with tired but interested eyes, hands settling gently around her waist while his fingers rubbed circles over her silk covered skin. “Nothing of any great consequence. Work frustrates me. People refuse to see reason, that is all.”

Hungary smiled and pressed her lips to his forehead, hiding her amusement against the irritated furrow of his brow, easily imagining Austria in his office, diplomatic as ever while he silently pined for the days when his word carried enough sway to quiet dissension. It was not that he minded plurality, she knew this without reservation, but she suspected that he found the whole process rather uncouth and unnecessarily artless.

“They won’t sing your tune?” Hungary murmured, stroking his hair and shifting close enough to feel his breath rush over her chest, dipping between the folds of her robe to warm her skin. “Neglecting to play along?

“Something like that,” Austria answered lowly, kissing the bottom of her throat while knowing fingers loosened the messy bow at her waist, parting silk to reveal the nakedness meant for their bed. “But it is nothing worth any worry.”

“Hmmm, if it is nothing to worry over, the perhaps you might want to leave poor Chopin alone,” Hungary teased, arching into the splay of his hands around her waist and the single finger that brushed over her navel, cool against her skin, “And work out your frustrations with a more receptive audience?”

The frames of his glasses scraped across her collarbone as he turned his face and touched his tongue to her throat, humming thoughtfully, “Will you bend to my will, then, darling?”

“I was thinking perhaps you should bend to mine,” Hungary offered with a smile, peering down at the familiar light of amusement in Austria’s eyes, “Use my powers of persuasion to dispel your worries.”

“Not the frying pan, I hope.” Austria said lightly as he swept his hands from waist to shoulders and pushed the robe to the floor, craning his neck to make room for her fingers to reach for his buttons.

“Those methods of persuasion are for Prussian idiots with no sense,” Hungary said fondly, shaking her hair spill over Austria’s hands as she stood naked and shameless between his legs and bent to wet his lips, “I promise to be more gentle with you.”

She felt her smile turn wicked as Austria tugged on her hair and whispered, “Entirely unnecessary,” before closing the infinitesimal space between their mouths and kissing her with sweet, precise intent. Hungary indulged the gentility of closed lips sliding softly so long as the hands that held her continued their steady journey from her hair to her throat and down to rest at the swell of her breasts, just over her heart as though he wished to time his touches to the rush over her pulse.

Her own actions were less pristine and more true to the thick warmth that had flushed her cheeks and urged the subtle spread of her legs. Without hesitation, she worked at the buttons of Austria’s shirt while he continued to kiss her kindly, teasing with his reservation because he liked to feel her grow impatient and needy, and Hungary was never averse to a good battlefield strategy.

Especially one as wonderfully familiar and satisfying as this, when at once Austria’s lips parted for her and his hands fell to her breasts, thumb and finger brushing and circling over each nipple until he had gained the advantage of her throaty, encouraging moan. She pulled his bottom lip between her teeth to remind him always of who she was while she pushed his shirt open enough to make way for the equal assault by her hands on his chest.

She splayed her fingers across the pale strength that he kept hidden from lesser eyes and tilted her head back to invite his mouth to bite at the hum of her pulse and kiss the notch of her throat and slide his tongue down to join his fingers at her breast. She let her moans echo in the stillness of their living room, enjoying the way he raked his teeth over her nipple just a little bit harder every time she urged him forward with gasps and murmurs. One arm snaked around her waist to draw her so near she had no choice but to relinquish her hold on his chest and return stroking the hair from his forehead as looked down and savored the warmth that rushed hot and wet between her legs with each touch and taste Austria took.

Hungary smiled and licked her lips to catch the sigh of anticipation that whispered from her throat as Austria flattened his palm on her stomach and dragged his fingers slowly down, tracing over the ridge of her hips and the softness of her belly, still pressing kisses to her breasts as she rocked lightly into the embrace and tried not to pull his hair.

He was a tease, her Austria, wanting always to find the right pitch and tune, delaying the pleasure she would have been happy to have without preamble by sliding both hands between her her thighs and leaving his fingers stroking just below the heat and wetness that would have him. She tugged at his hair to force smother the ghost of his arrogant smirk with a mouth that had conquered him more times than they could remember, kissing him deeply until his tongue brushed over hers and he murmured low and rough against her lips.

Hungary gasped and bit at his smiling mouth as he spread her open with his thumbs but touched her no further, content to let her writhe and arch to get his hands where should want them while his fingers traced idly patterns on the insides of her thighs. She tightened her hold on his hair and moaned breathily in the hopes of sweetening the incentive to go further, to not let her linger in the limbo between anticipation and fulfillment, huffing with frustration when he continued to nothing more than flirt.

But Hungary knew enough of lust and war to know that any good stratagem was one worth stealing and so softened her kiss until her lips were barely brushed his and then pushed his head just far enough back to they were longer embracing, denying him and he denied her. Austria peered up at her with that secret gaze of play and passion that he never showed the world, giving an elegant roll of his shoulders before surrendered and slid the tips of two fingers inside her and touched his thumb to her clit. Hungary arched and sighed, hair spilling around their faces as she bent to kiss him once more, feeling generous as Austria caressed her with one hand and twisted the wrist of the other to go deeper inside, her body gone taut with the rush of pleasure that spread from the wetness of her lips to the slick of her thighs.

While he curled his fingers and pressed his thumb to her clit, she let him hear her voice, breaking their kiss to toss her head back and moan as he touched his lips to her breast and bit down softly on her nipple. Hungary felt the tremble begin in her toes and move up the curve of her legs to the slip and slide of Austria’s fingers, parting her and pleasing her, playing her so finely. She felt his arm wrap around her waist to steady her sway and shudder, always so conscientious even when wicked and dangerous, her love as he pushed a third finger within and sucked at the hollow of her throat, urging her on with the heat and determination in his gaze. Her eyes closed as her breath quicken, coming with in rush of salt slick wanting over Austria’s fingers, feeling him still within her as her hands pulled at his hair and her thoughts were lost entirely.

Hungary swallowed her breaths and shared her desperation with Austria, kissing messily while he continued to touch her, finger curving around her clit to make her moan and slide her tongue over his with a needy sigh. She dropped her hands from the hair she had ruined to pull at his belt, laughing with with breathless happiness and anticipation as she felt his cock hard and strained against his zipper. It was difficult to manage grace when Austria continued to torment, when her thighs still shook and her hands would not obey her ready commands.
But there were very few challenges Hungary was not prepared to conquer through sheer force of will and using more forceful methods of persuasion, at length belt and button and zipper gave way, finally allowing her to cup Austria through the cotton of his underwear and squeeze. She felt him arch into her touch and groan into her mouth, the fingers between her legs faltering for just a moment as she murmured, “Stand up.”

Austria’s hands fell from her skin, leaving her temporarily untouched as he stood with such speed it brought a smile to her flushed face. She did not grant Austria the same slow, sweet, tease, loving him in the way that was to true to her heart as she swiftly fell to her knees, dragging pants and underwear down the slope of his thighs and over his bare feet to be abandoned on the floor. With a wicked smile, Hungary tossed her hair over shoulder and brought Austria’s hand to her lips, holding his naked gaze as she licked and sucked the fingers that had brought her such pleasure, rising slowly as he cupped her chin and urged to her feet once more. She shared the taste with a kiss that was more lust than affection, arching into the cock that pressed against her stomach while Austria threaded his hands in her hair and dragged her close.

Impatient, demanding, Hungary pushed Austria on to the piano bench, carefully straddling his lap with knees spread on either side of his thighs. She thought of all the myriad times they had done this before, with her skirts spilling over their legs and the way the piano had shouted so angrily when she flung out a hand and pressed down on the keys as Austria pressed into her. But now she braced herself against his chest and trusted in the arms around her waist, stronger than anyone but her seemed to know as she reveled in the unmistakable, delicious feeling of the first touch of a lover inside.

She let him be deliberate, let him take her by inches until his cock was hot and hard within and the skin of their thighs brushed as surely as his lips over hers. His hands were splayed against her back, pulling at the hair that cascaded with each slow arch and roll of her hips as she began to move, taking him as he took her in a rhythm they knew now by heart. Austria whispered her name, called her darling and Hungary smiled and tightened around him, lifting her body within his arms to draw out his strokes and sweeten the pleasure. She gave him her moans and her sighs and the slick warmth of her lust, rolling her hips in wicked circles as Austria bit her throat and swept his hands up and down the arch of her back.

It was too sweet and too soon after the first time to deny the second rush of pleasure for long, and Hungary wasn’t much of one for restraint, not when it was like this, so close and so fine. She gave into the wanton feeling of her second orgasm as she dropped her head into the crook of Austria’s shoulder and trusted him to keep time as she broke breathless around him. But just as the Chopin had gone discordant, Austria’s precision faltered with her own messy and relentless movements, until he was pushing into her without thought but with all feeling, murmuring and panting into the tangle of her hair as he came.

His chest heaved with hers, the beating of his heart so strong and fast against her breast while she touched his face and kissed his parted lips to chase the last moments of their shared desire. Hungary laughed breathlessly and opened her eyes to find Austria staring at her as he always did in moments such as this, as though slightly awed that such a thing could have happened.

“Better?” Hungary asked quietly, winking as she tweaked his nose and wrapped her arms around his neck, feeling satiation creep through her limbs.

Austria kissed her cheeks, so chaste and proper, and whispered, “Always, with you.”