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His wrists were hurting. He tried to move his hands so that he could rub them, but they wouldn't budge. This irritation urged him to hurry at waking up and try to bring some sense into his situation. Maybe he had somehow got wrapped up in the sheets again.
But he wasn't supposed to be at home. There was a battle to be fought in Silesia. He and Fouqué were going to kick some Austrian ass and show that snobby loser who these lands really belonged to. Or at least that was the last memory his muddled brain could recall.
Prussia groaned as he was finally able to force his eyes open. The only source of light was a tiny window to his left, but it was enough for him to get a look at his surroundings. He was in a small room that looked to be a cell of some sort. It certainly filled all the important functions of one – the stone floor was cold; the door looked sturdy and locked, and while the window had no bars, it was too small for a man to crawl through.
The most obvious hint was the way his wrists were bound above his head with a rope that was attached to the wall. The next realisation that dawned on him was the iron taste in his mouth. One glance down at his uniform revealed that it was covered in blood, but from the feel of it, not much of it was his.
“Fuck,” Prussia muttered and leaned his head against the wall. His memories were quickly returning, and he didn't like them. The battle had been lost. The last time he had seen Fouqué, the general had been wounded. Who knew if he was even alive anymore. Maybe every single man who had been with him was dead.
Prussia didn't usually leave his king's side, but the war wasn't going in their favour, and they had decided the men needed a boost of morale. While Frederick was handling matters elsewhere, Prussia had gone with Fouqué to face Austria's troops in Landeshut. They had been outnumbered, but that had never been enough to ruin his mood. He could take on all of Austria by himself if he had to!
This time had been just a stupid exception. The enemy had attacked at night, which was a totally lame way to go about it (except when it was Prussia doing it, of course), and then his troops had been forced to stay on the defence. Prussia gritted his teeth. He hated defence!
His thoughts were brought to a halt when there was the sound of a key being turned in the lock. After a moment, the door was pushed open.
Nothing could have prepared him for what happened next. Austria stepped in. Fucking Austria! What the hell was he of all people doing here? Prussia had thought that the snob had already learned his lesson and would stay at home, hugging his piano, rather than get anywhere near a battle against Prussian forces ever again.
With his enemy almost within his reach, just standing before him while he was unable to do more than sit, glare and curse, the realisation that he and his men had lost this battle suddenly tasted so very bitter and made his blood roar. This wasn't supposed to happen! He couldn't lose to this pathetic, weak excuse of a nation!
“It's good to see that you're awake. The last time I visited you, you were still unconscious,” Austria said. He closed the door after him but didn't lock it. Maybe he was stupid, or maybe he was certain that Prussia wouldn't be able to escape.
Several questions suddenly jumped to his mind. Where exactly was he? A cellar like this meant they were in a town somewhere. Just how long had he been out, and what had even happened? How big were the losses? Was Fouqué dead? The man was Frederick's friend, and Prussia liked him well enough, so that would be a shame.
“What have you done with my general?” he asked.
“He's injured but being looked after. We'll of course be hanging onto him for a while.”
Well, that could have been worse. As long as Fouqué was alive, he could still strike back. Prussia would gather the men, attack and take revenge for this humiliation and every single of his soldiers who had died.
Austria lifted a brow at him. “I wouldn't be smirking like that in your position. You lost two thousand men in this battle.”
“I still have plenty more, you –”
“And we took around eight thousand captive.”
Prussia felt his jaw drop. That was almost the entire manpower he had sent to this battle! He had nothing left. He'd have to crawl back to his king and admit defeat. That was even worse than sitting here on the dirty floor with Austria towering over him.
“So, what now?” he asked. “Am I your spoils of war or what?”
Austria shook his head. “I wouldn't want to keep you even if I had taken over all of Prussia. Which, if I may add, just might happen if that was the best your army has to offer. It's enough for me that I have your general. You won't be my prisoner.”
“Oh, sorry, you had me confused here for a moment with these binds and all. If this is how you treat guests, I'm pretty curious to hear what you do to prisoners.”
“I apologize. The accommodations aren't very satisfactory, but I had to ensure that you'd be properly subdued until I have taken care of everything. I wouldn't want you to try to cause any trouble.”
Prussia frowned at the friendly tone in Austria's voice. Something wasn't right here. He couldn't believe that even this bespectacled smarty pants would be stupid enough to treat a captured enemy like this. It wasn't that many years ago that Prussia had taunted him and shoved his face into dirt. Surely Austria remembered. Surely he wanted revenge now that it was being offered on a silver platter.
“Okay, fine,” he said, not yet sure what to make of the situation. “Then I guess this is the point where you let me go and I swear to come back for revenge and shit, right?”
Even voicing that was humiliating. Austria was going to let him go. Prussia would have much rather escaped, leaving a trail of bodies in his wake with muskets blazing behind him. He didn't want any favours or pity from this prissy dick.
“Not quite. It wouldn't speak well of my hospitality if I let you go back in that dirty and torn uniform and with blood in your hair. I'm sure you want to look your best when you report this battle to your king,” Austria said, and if Prussia had believed that Austria had a sense of humour, he might have said there was a faint smile sparkling in his eyes.
Prussia chuckled through gritted teeth. “Always the same, huh? A little grime from battle never hurt anyone, but what would you know about that?”
“I was there,” Austria said flatly. “Just because we aren't all barbarians with no manners doesn't mean you're the only one who knows something about war. In fact, considering our current positions, I'd say I'm somewhat more well-endowed in that matter.”
“You had luck,” Prussia snarled.
“I was better.”
Prussia didn't feel like arguing. If that snob wanted to delude himself that way, he could go right ahead. Prussia would remind him of the truth the next time they faced each other.
He tugged at his bound hands. “How about cutting the rope, then? I'll be a good boy and wash my face and comb my hair if the sight of a real soldier is too much for you to handle.”
“I'm not stupid. I'm not untying your hands until it's time for you to go.”
“Hah! Scared I'll beat the crap out of you and make my grand escape?”
“I'm only trying to spare you from further injuries and embarrassment.”
Prussia groaned in impatience. All that sissy music must have been rotting Austria's brain. “How the hell do you expect me to make myself presentable if I can't use my hands?”
“I don't.”
“Then what – Oh, hell, don't tell me you're thinking about touching my hair! I'm way too awesome for you to get your foppish hands anywhere near me!”
Austria made a disapproving click with his tongue. “You should show some appreciation. I could keep you a prisoner of war and treat you any way I like. Having their nation captured would surely destroy whatever morale your men have left. But I'm letting you go back instead, unharmed and looking a little more like a civilized human being.”
“Fuck you!”
“I think I might have to wash your mouth as well.” With that, Austria returned to the door and walked out, locking it once more. Prussia was left alone with his seething anger and confusion.
He couldn't understand what Austria was doing. Nothing like this had ever happened. He had been defeated in the past, and then he had always received a few extra blows, been made to face his defeated men or crawl at the feet of the nation who had beaten him. That was to be expected. That was normal. That was what he had done to Austria.
Austria returned some time later. He wasn't alone. Three of his men were with him, each of them carrying two buckets full of water. As they placed them on the floor, Prussia could see steam rising from them. He realised only now that he was almost shivering from cold. What also dawned on him was that this was quite a lot of water for just washing his hair.
The soldiers left at Austria's command, never once even glancing at Prussia. He felt like an idiot for having to sit there with his hands bound above his head like some animal waiting to be slaughtered.
Austria was carrying a box that he placed carefully on the floor so that the contents were out of Prussia's range of vision. He took something from it and put it into his pocket before turning around and walking to kneel before him.
Somehow, seeing Austria up close was worse than having him tower over him. He could make out all the details in the nation's glasses, the beauty mark at the corner of his mouth and the elaborate pattern of the frills in his clothes. It was all too personal.
Austria reached a hand into his pocket and took out the item he had placed there earlier. It was a knife, and he raised it up to where Prussia's hands were bound to the wall. At first Prussia thought he was going to free him after all, but then he felt the first tug at the sleeve of his uniform.
“Hey, what the hell?”
“Keep quiet and don't thrash around like that. I need to get you out of this uniform, and I want to do it without damaging the fabric more than is necessary. It could still be used for something, like patching other clothes.”
“Out of this uniform?” Prussia repeated, mind suddenly blank. The sound of his jacket being carefully torn apart made his thoughts jump straight to things he'd rather not imagine. Oh, fuck, this fop wasn't going to –
He kicked out with everything he had and sent Austria flying on his back on the floor. He dropped the knife, which had miraculously not cut into Prussia's skin at his attack.
“Don't you dare touch me!” Prussia snarled.
“Then would you rather have a bath while clothed?”
What? A bath? So, this wasn't leading to where he had thought? While it was a great relief, Prussia didn't quite allow himself to relax.
“I thought this was about my hair,” he said. “My hair is seriously the best, so if you really are so impressed by it that you want to use this hair washing business as an excuse to touch it, go ahead. But I'm staying in my uniform. Some things are just too awesome for a prissy loser like you to see.”
Austria corrected the position of his glasses on his face and picked up the knife. Much to Prussia's irritation, it looked like the kick hadn't bothered him at all, even though he had given his everything. Fuck, maybe Austria really was a pretty strong nation right now.
“I don't recall saying you had any choice in the matter. I will take care of my responsibilities as a host whether you like it or not.”
“Hah,” Prussia chuckled. “You think you'll get under my skin like this? Go ahead and try! Take a look at my gorgeous body if you want it so bad! I don't care!”
“Then I would advise you not to kick me again.”
Prussia gritted his teeth as Austria returned to his work. That pretentious excuse of a nation had a lot of nerve destroying his proud Prussian uniform. He'd get back at him for that. Next time he beat the crap out of him, he'd do something disgusting to Austria's flag.
He shivered when Austria removed his jacket and then his shirt. The stone wall behind him bit coldly into his skin, but he couldn't arch away from it because then he would have been even closer to his captor.
“I have arranged a new uniform for you. You can have it when it's time for you to leave,” Austria said. He set the knife aside and stood up. Prussia watched him walk to pick up a bucket of water and a piece of cloth from the box.
He wondered if Austria got his kicks from doing this to him. Prussia couldn't imagine any other reason why he'd be doing something like this. While it was no surprise that someone would go to great lengths just to get to see his awesome body, he wished it had been anyone else but Austria. Austria was just so disturbingly... Austrian.
“Looks like someone did a number on you,” Austria said as he brought the wet cloth up to Prussia's temple.
Prussia said nothing. He did his best not to wince at the pain that flashed inside his head.
“My men found you unconscious in the battlefield. Maybe you fell off the horse and hit your head.”
“Like hell! I would never – ow, watch it!”
“I'm sorry. I didn't see that bump.”
“Then how about you just get your fucking fingers out of my hair and we end this here? Goddamit, we both know this isn't necessary, so I have no idea why you keep pretending that this is something you have to do,” Prussia said.
“I'm just being a good host, as manners dictate.”
Prussia frowned. Austria had said that several times now. Could he really mean it? Was this really nothing but routine for him with no malicious intentions? Yeah, maybe it was. Austria certainly was sissy enough to think that he was doing him a service, like Prussia couldn't deal with a bit of blood and dirt on him.
He was about to laugh, but that was when Austria emptied the bucket on him. Prussia gasped as the hot water momentarily swallowed him, the contrast with the cold room sending a shiver through his entire body.
And then Austria's hands were back in his hair, stroking him to wash away the mud and blood. Prussia had never given much thought to Austria's fingers other than that they were the fingers of a wuss and probably couldn't even hold a sword right. Now he suddenly recalled them flying over piano keys or holding a violin. It was still stupid and ridiculous, but he didn't feel like laughing, especially when Austria's thumb brushed against his earlobe.
Austria poured more water over him before resuming his work on his hair. Prussia wondered if his hair really was that dirty or if Austria just was that thorough. Either way, it wasn't as bad as he had thought.
He hoped more water would come soon. Now that he was wet and his skin had got a brief taste of warmth, the temperature in the room made him tremble more than ever.
“I think your hair is as presentable as I can make it without praying for a miracle,” Austria stated. His fingers travelled lower to Prussia's neck where they tickled him before stopping to rest at his shoulders. The shiver that went through him then certainly wasn't due to the cold.
“I think we're done,” Prussia whined. He didn't want to know what it would feel like if those hands traced down any lower on his body. It was just too fucking weird to have Austria so close to him. That was reserved for those few who were awesome enough in his eyes.
“I think not.”
Austria took the piece of cloth from earlier and sunk it into the water. He didn't squeeze it before bringing it to Prussia's body, so there was a trail of hot water left on his skin. Each droplet that rolled down was like a finger brushing slightly against him, and he hated it so much.
Despite that, he almost found himself arching into Austria's touch when that cloth was pressed against him. It was warm, and so were Austria's hands as they started washing off the dirt, sweat and blood that had been clinging to Prussia's skin for longer than he knew.
Prussia chose a spot on the opposite wall and stared at it as Austria worked. His movements were slow and gentle, and if they hadn't been enemies, Prussia might have suspected he was minding his bruises. But since they were enemies, he was just being his usual sissy self. And most importantly, there was no way in hell that Prussia was feeling tempted to relax. Because they were enemies.
The cloth brushed against his nipple, and he bit into his lip at the sudden fire that flared through him. Stupid Austria. Couldn't he watch a little what he was doing and – fuck, he did it again, this time with more force. Argh, dammit, dammit!
“Is something wrong?” Austria asked. “You're very tense all of a sudden. Am I hurting you?”
Prussia could only stare. No way even Austria was this stupid. Those violet eyes that were looking down at him appeared so confused and innocent, but it couldn't be. Austria was centuries old. Regardless of Prussia's dislike of him, he wasn't an idiot or weak.
“Oh, I see what this is all about,” he growled.
“I have no idea what you mean.”
“Yeah, right. If you think this is a good way to get back at me, think again! I won't be broken by something lame like this!”
Austria paused his work. “I assure you, I have no intention of doing anything more than what I've said.”
Prussia could only snort.
“Then what exactly do you believe I'm doing?”
Prussia opened his mouth, but he quickly closed it again. He couldn't admit that he had noticed the way Austria's hands were roaming over his chest, that it made him tremble and want to arch into that touch to get more. Austria's act was so innocent. His fingers never lingered too long in one place; he wasn't really teasing him. He was... Fuck, Prussia didn't even know what it was that he was doing, but it was starting to drive him insane.
He flinched and tried to pull away when Austria's touches slithered momentarily down towards his hips. He received an irritated glare from his captor – no, right, he was a host, wasn't he? – as a response.
“Try to act like an adult and not a skittish little girl,” Austria said.
“Then keep your hands to yourself! I can wash myself if it's that important to you!”
“And grab my throat the moment I untie your hands?”
“You're such a pansy. Get out and lock me in with water.”
“No. You aren't in a position to make any demands.”
“I thought I was your guest.”
“That can change as soon as you start giving me so much trouble that I need to use force. In fact, you already kicked me once,” Austria said. His hands travelled down again and started opening the buttons on Prussia's trousers.
“And I'll do it again! Stop!”
Prussia struggled as Austria began to pull down his trousers. He'd be damned if he let this smarty pants humiliate him any further! But despite his efforts, he couldn't do much more than thrash and curse. It didn't take long before Austria had removed his boots and slid the trousers off him.
Prussia felt his face burn, but he refused to close his legs and admit his mortification. “Like what you see?” he asked and forced out a chuckle.
“I suppose it's average.”
Austria brought over another bucket of water and poured some of it over Prussia's thighs. He resumed his work without another word, but he didn't make it very far before Prussia tried to kick him off again.
“Honestly, stop! This isn't funny anymore. Okay, I admit, you have me beaten. You've proved your point, so there's no need to keep going,” he said. He liked to think he spoke in a voice that was used to giving orders, but even in his own ears, it sounded like a whine.
“You keep insisting that I'm doing this to have some petty revenge on you. That's not true at all. I'm not that childish.” As Austria spoke, he returned to scrubbing the skin of Prussia's legs. He brushed against old scars with his fingertips, let his hands massage his calves and every now and then sneaked up towards his crotch. He always retreated before he got close enough to touching, making Prussia want to squirm.
Even though it mortified him to the core, he could feel himself beginning to grow hard. He kept expecting Austria to point it out or at least stop and look at him in disgust or amusement, but the nation didn't acknowledge his growing problem in any way.
And that was the worst. If Austria despised him for this, he would have stopped. If he was doing this on purpose, he would have mocked him for being so weak before him. The more unbearable the throbbing between his legs grew, the more he wanted that this had been Austria's intention all along.
He bit into his lip to hold back a grunt as Austria moved to wash the insides of his thighs. He searched his face for signs that would reveal that this was all a sick plot.
Show me that you're doing this on purpose, he thought. Show me that you like what you see. Show me that this excites you. Show me that it's not just me!
But Austria was perfectly stoic. There wasn't the slightest blush on his his cheeks. His breathing was normal. Despite Prussia's wishes, there was no bulge in his trousers.
Prussia lowered his head, too ashamed to keep looking at Austria. He was half-hard in his enemy's hands, and it meant nothing to that piece of shit. He was weak. Even now, knowing how wrong this was, he had to struggle to stop himself from thrusting into Austria's touch. Austria had reduced him to this so easily, without even trying. He was a disgrace.
He was so occupied with his thoughts that he didn't even realise Austria had stood up before there was a sudden yank at his hands. Prussia looked up and saw for the first time that the rope around his wrists was much longer than he had thought and that it had been tied around an iron ring on the wall. Austria had removed it and was now holding the end in his hands.
He's leading me like some fucking slave, Prussia fumed. But no matter. Now that the rope wasn't attached to anywhere, he could escape. And then he'd come back and give this pansy what was coming to him!
The knife from earlier was on the floor, close to his reach. All he had to do was be fast. Prussia pulled at the rope with everything he had, hoping to get Austria off balance for long enough to make him lose his hold on the rope.
At first he was sure that it had worked, but then he felt his foot slip on the wet floor. With his hands bound, he had no way of balancing himself and fell painfully on his side. He muttered profanities under his breath and tried to get back up, but Austria had already slipped the end of the rope through a ring on the floor and pulled, forcing Prussia on his knees as his wrists were once again trapped.
“This is why I had to keep you bound. There's no trusting you, even when I'm doing everything I can to be a good host,” Austria said as he finished tying the rope.
“Fuck you,” Prussia snarled. This new position was even more uncomfortable than the previous, but at least his erection was now hidden from sight.
“We're almost done. If you hadn't been so difficult, you could already be in your new uniform and on your way home.”
Prussia lowered his head against his hands and shivered when Austria poured water over his back and started washing him. His fingers danced over him and massaged his muscles that were tired and sore from weeks on horseback. It was maddening; Prussia could hear his own heartbeat in his ears and –
“No, stop,” he said and tried to flinch away when Austria's hands came uncomfortably close to his buttocks.
The hands kept going. Their light touches travelled downwards until Prussia felt them at his thighs, trying to force them apart.
“Stop!” he snarled. “If you want me to beg, fine! Stop it! I don't want this!” Sure, his stupid body said otherwise, but that didn't mean anything. He didn't want to be so vulnerable and weak before Austria's eyes.
“Don't be so childish,” Austria replied.
Prussia let out a muffled groan as Austria pushed his legs apart and reached to grab his erection. There was nothing intimate about it; he didn't even acknowledge the hardness. He simply brushed it with the cloth, but even that was enough to make Prussia tremble with want. Fucking Austria! At this point, if he had tried to turn this into angry, heated sex after a battle, Prussia would have obliged.
But he would get no release from Austria. The nation let go of him once he was done, stood up and retreated. Prussia felt both relief and disappointment. It was over now. This stupid game had ended, and he would finally be let go. As embarrassing as this had been, he hadn't been broken. He'd get over this.
“Happy now?” he asked.
“Almost, but not quite.”
“What else do you want? You already shoved your fingers everywhere on me.” Well, not quite, but that was the last thing Prussia wanted to think about.
“Just one more routine procedure, and you can go.”
Prussia watched Austria walk to the box and take out something. He had his back to him, so he didn't see what it was until Austria turned around to face him.
“You're kidding me,” he said and stared with wide eyes at the clyster syringe in Austria's hands. No way. No fucking way. Austria couldn't do that to him. He couldn't force him through that!
He yanked at the rope, ignoring the way it bit into his already sore wrists, but there was no escaping from the position Austria had forced him into. He was trapped.
“It won't take long. Don't worry.”
“I don't want it! I don't need it!”
“Everyone needs it from time to time. And there's still water left. It would be a shame to let it go to waste.”
“Then give one to yourself! You aren't doing this to me! No way!”
Prussia watched Austria fill the syringe. Fuck, just how much water went into that thing? Was it supposed to be that large? Prussia wasn't like that goddamn France, so he wasn't very familiar with these matters.
“No, don't,” he pleaded as Austria came to kneel by his side.
“It won't hurt,” Austria said.
Yeah, like that was the problem! Prussia could take pain. He'd rather take a sword through his stomach than this.
Austria was positioned behind him, so he couldn't see what he was doing. He felt the nation's hand on his back and how he gently but firmly pushed his upper body down against the floor.
“No, stay on your knees,” he said and forced Prussia's hips to remain up. “Higher. Like this. It's going to be easier if you do what I say.”
Prussia let out a shaky chuckle at the situation he was in. He couldn't believe that this was happening, that he was on his knees on the floor with his ass up in the air and ready for this. But there was no escape, he knew. One way or another, he'd have to endure it, and he'd rather have it be fast than prolong it with a futile struggle.
“Spread your legs.”
He did and lowered his head against his hands on the floor. His eyes stung in shame, and be blinked them rapidly so that Austria wouldn't notice. That was his last shred of dignity. He had to hold onto it.
“Alright. I'll begin.”
He clenched his eyes shut and bit his lip as the nozzle pressed against his entrance. Austria paused there, and Prussia felt like screaming in frustration. He just wanted this over with.
“I want you to know that once the water is in, you'll have to hold it. If you let it out too soon, we're going to have to do this again. Time is money, so I hope you'll behave.”
Prussia didn't say anything. He didn't trust his voice with the brass nozzle brushing against his backside, knowing that it would soon be inside him.
Austria's hand came to rest at the small of his back, and anxiousness curled up in Prussia's stomach. He gritted his teeth as he felt the tip enter, agonizingly slowly, and let out a shaky breath when the nozzle was finally all the way in. It didn't hurt, but it filled him in a way that was bordering on unpleasant. The nozzle was hard and unyielding and didn't allow him to relax.
He grunted when he felt the water start to enter him. It was warmer than he had expected, uncomfortable but not hot enough to burn. And the flow was rapid, which he had not known to anticipate after the care with which Austria had inserted the nozzle.
“Stop! No more,” he complained, but Austria didn't seem to care. Water flowed into him until he was sure more couldn't possibly fit. The warmth that engulfed him from the inside made sweat rise to his skin, and he found himself missing the cold from before.
“Just a little more,” Austria said. “Alright. I'm going to remove the nozzle. Be sure to hold it all in.”
Prussia felt the nozzle leave him, but it brought him no comfort. He couldn't relax; he had to tense his muscles to keep the water inside. And fuck, there was so much of it! He felt like he would burst if there was even one drop more. Every second was spent on trying to ignore his discomfort and taking in gasping breaths.
“You said it wouldn't hurt,” he panted accusingly.
“Does it? I'm sorry. The cramps are sometimes a little difficult.”
Prussia tried to laugh, but the hollow sound that left him was more like a whimper. He kept his head down and concentrated on breathing through the pain and the strain, so he was surprised when he felt Austria's hands on his skin once more.
“What –”
“Rubbing usually helps, at least a little.”
Prussia knew he should have snapped at him to leave him alone, but if there was anything to be done against the waves of pain surging through his body, he'd take it. It wasn't like he had anything to lose. And the hands roaming over his bloated stomach were easing the pain somewhat. They also reminded Prussia of the fact that he was still hard. He thought it made no sense, but the fullness was only exciting him more until he was sure he couldn't take it.
He moaned into the back of his hand, and he didn't know if it was because of the cramp that hit him or the desperate need that had taken over his body. There was something so wrong about being in this position before Austria that it was almost right. He couldn't take it anymore! It was too much! He had to –!
“Touch me! Goddammit, touch me!”
His eyes were blurry with tears, but he didn't care. He had to come. He had already been disgraced this far. A little more wouldn't hurt if he just got release. Surely this was what Austria had wanted to hear all along. Surely he'd have at least this much pity on him.
But Austria's hands never once travelled down to his erection. Prussia would have growled in frustration if he had had the strength, but all he could let out were needy gasps and whimpers. Another cramp made his stomach clench. He knew he'd go insane if this terrible mixture of arousal, pain and helplessness to do anything about either went on for much longer.
He whined when Austria removed his hands and stood up.
“You may let the water out now.”
“What? Where?”
“Right here.”
Prussia looked up from his hands in horror. Here? Before Austria's eyes when he was still kneeling on the floor? No. He couldn't. He'd rather die. He'd rather do anything else.
He moaned when another painful cramp hit him and made him want to curl up into a ball.
“Let me go. Please. I can't... I can't do it here.”
“There's nothing to it. But if you'd rather keep the water in for a while longer, be my guest,” Austria said non-chalantly, and Prussia knew he would be getting no mercy. There was only one way. Even if he tried not to do it, his tired muscles wouldn't be able to hold on for much longer.
The tears he had been trying to hold back finally flowed freely when he began to release the water. He trembled with shame as the smell reached his nostrils and wanted nothing more than to die. This wasn't awesome. It was so far from awesome that it shouldn't have existed in Prussia's world.
He vaguely noticed Austria cut the rope around his wrists with the knife, but he didn't move. He remained a sobbing mess on the floor, too humiliated to look up even when Austria called out his name.
It was only when Austria emptied the last bucket of water on him that he managed to regain anything resembling control. He scrambled into a sitting position and looked up at his captor. He expected to finally see the disgusted and victorious gleam in his eyes that should have been there since the beginning, but he saw nothing.
“I have your new uniform right here,” Austria said and picked up a pile of folded clothes from the box.
Prussia reached out for it and pressed it against his chest. It was a small comfort now, but it was something. It was his uniform; it was something safe. He put the clothes on in a hurry, sniffling as he tried to bring himself once again under control.
He couldn't meet Austria's eyes. That sick fuck! This whole mess had been Austria's revenge, he was sure of it. But the prick hadn't shown a flicker of emotion at any point, so Prussia had got no comfort from the knowledge that he was doing it on purpose. There had been no battle of wills. His only enemy had been himself, and he had lost.
He was still hard, so he had some trouble with the trousers, but he didn't care. He wanted out of here this second. He'd go back to Frederick and they would come up with the best battle strategy known to man, and then he'd do something so bad to Austria that it would be a thousand times worse than what he had done to him. He didn't yet know what it was, but he'd do it.
Austria walked to the door and opened it. “I already have a horse prepared for you. You should be able to reach your remaining men in a day or two.”
“As soon as I have more men, I'm coming back to kick your ass,” Prussia said. He knew it wasn't much of a threat when his eyes were red and his voice this hoarse, but it was the best he could offer at the moment.
“I'll be looking forward to it.”
They stepped outside, and Prussia realised for the first time where they were. He had visited this small town earlier when he and his men had arrived at the area. It had been nearly empty then, but now it was brimming with Austria's soldiers.
Everyone turned to look at them. Prussia gritted his teeth, knowing that every man had to notice the bulge in his strained trousers. Well, they could all go to hell. Maybe he had let Austria see his tears, but he would not cower before his men. He was the goddamn Prussia! He could walk around in broad daylight with a raging erection if he fucking wanted to!
Austria motioned for a soldier to bring him a horse. He shoved the reins into Prussia's hands and watched in silence how he mounted the animal.
“Well, I suppose this is goodbye for now,” Austria said.
“Yeah, until I come back and pull your intestines out through your ass,” Prussia growled.
“We'll see. Oh, and one more thing.” Austria paused and gave Prussia a calm, poignant look over his glasses. “I took the liberty of putting a handkerchief in the pocket of your new uniform. Just in case.”
“What? A handkerchief?” Prussia repeated, but then it dawned on him, and he let out an angry snarl. He struck his heels at his horse's sides and rode out of the town, too furious to even insult his enemy.
However, even hotter than his anger was the nearly painful throbbing between his legs. He couldn't go back to his remaining men like this. He couldn't find them before he had relieved himself.
As soon as he was safely away in the woods, he brought his horse to a halt and leapt to the ground. He hastily tied the reins around a young tree, telling himself that it was because he was in a hurry to get this done and return to his troops and not because he needed it so badly.
Humiliation burned his cheeks as he pulled down his pants and leaned his back against a tree. Fuck, he couldn't believe he was doing this, right after that prissy aristocrat had done that to him, but – ah! He had to!
Austria's name escaped his lips as he arched his back and came into his hand. For years afterwards, the anger he felt at the nation was always coated with arousal and shame.