Chapter Text
Russia shoots a glare at Australia, who is slumped across a desk on the other side of the detention room. Stupid Australian. They were in detention since they had gotten into a fight. Australia was now asleep on one of the desks. Russia sighs. Even though he had been fist fighting the other boy an hour before, he couldn't deny that he was attractive, with his bright blue eyes, tanned skin, freckles, and golden hair. He glances over at Australia again. He can feel heat pooling low in his belly, but knows he can't do anything to stop it. He unzips his pants and slips his hand in, stroking his thick length. He groans softly. Fuck, that feels good~
His head lolls back as he continues to stroke himself, thinking about Australia. He thinks about those full lips wrapped around his cock, those freckled cheeks hollowing as he sucks. He thinks about Australia's strong hands, how they'd feel on him, on his hips, on his face, in his hair.
"Fuck~ Australia~" he whimpers softly.
Australia stirs.
Russia's eyes fly open, and he yanks his hand from his pants, zipping them up in a hurry. His face is burning. Australia lifts his head from the desk, squinting at Russia. "What was that?" he mumbles, his voice thick with sleep. "Nothing," Russia snaps, turning away. "Go back to sleep."
But Australia is already getting up, stretching. His shirt rides up, revealing a sliver of tanned stomach and a trail of golden hair that disappears into his jeans. Russia's cock twitches. Australia pads over to him, a lazy grin on his face. "You were saying my name," he says, his voice low and teasing. "Were you dreaming about me, Russki?"
Russia's blush deepens. "No," he lies, his voice coming out strangled. "I was... thinking about... math."
Australia laughs, a low, rumbling sound. "Right. Math." He leans in closer, his blue eyes crinkling at the corners. "Is this the kind of math that requires you to have your hands down your pants?"
Russia's breath hitches. He can feel the heat radiating off Australia's body, can smell the faint scent of sun and sweat on his skin. He's trapped. Before he can say anything else, Australia closes the remaining distance between them and presses their lips together. It's not a gentle kiss.
He loves this, how Australia doesn't hesitate to take control and kiss him like he owns him.
His own hands, clumsy and unsure, find Australia's waist. He pulls him closer, deepening the kiss. Australia's tongue is in his mouth, exploring, claiming. Russia can't help the little whimper that escapes him. He's hard again, so hard it hurts. Australia must feel it, because he grins against Russia's lips, a triumphant, predatory grin. "See?" he murmurs, his voice a low rasp. "Not so tough now, are you?"
Russia just shakes his head, unable to form words. Australia pushes him back against the wall, his body pinning Russia's. He kisses him again, harder this time, one hand tangled in Russia's hair, the other sliding down his back to cup his ass. Russia moans into the kiss, his hips bucking forward, seeking friction. Australia chuckles, the vibration sending shivers down Russia's spine. "Eager, aren't we?"
Australia's hand leaves his ass and travels to the front of his pants, deftly undoing the button and zipper. Russia's breath catches in his throat as Australia's hand slides inside, wrapping around his cock. "Fuck," Russia gasps, his head falling back against the wall. Australia's thumb sweeps over the tip, smearing the bead of precum that has gathered there.
"So sensitive," Australia murmurs, his breath hot against Russia's ear. He begins to stroke, slow and deliberate, his grip firm. "You like that, don't you?"
Russia can only nod, his hips moving in time with Australia's strokes. He's completely at the other's mercy, and he's never felt more alive. Australia's other hand moves to Russia's chest, undoing the buttons of his shirt one by one. His fingers are warm against Russia's skin, tracing the lines of his muscles. Russia shivers, a full-body tremor that has nothing to do with the cold.
Australia's lips find his neck, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down to his collarbone. He bites down gently, and Russia cries out, his back arching. "Please," he begs, not even sure what he's begging for. More? Less? For this to never end?
Australia seems to understand. He increases the pace of his strokes, his thumb rubbing over the sensitive slit on every upstroke. Russia can feel the tension coiling in his gut, a tight, hot ball of pleasure that's about to explode. "Look at me," Australia commands, his voice low and rough. Russia forces his eyes open, meeting Australia's intense blue gaze.
"I want to see you when you come," Australia says, and that's all it takes.
The world whites out. A strangled cry tears from Russia's throat as he spills over Australia's hand, his body shaking with the force of his orgasm. Australia keeps stroking him through it, drawing out every last drop of pleasure until Russia is a boneless, panting mess against the wall.
Australia finally lets go, bringing his hand up to his lips and licking Russia's release from his fingers. Russia watches, transfixed, as Australia's pink tongue darts out to taste him. "Sweet," Australia murmurs, a smirk playing on his lips. "Who knew?"
Russia just stares, his mind completely blank. He feels raw, exposed, and more satisfied than he's ever been in his life. Australia leans in and kisses him again, a slow, languid kiss that tastes of salt and sex and something uniquely Australia. When he pulls back, his blue eyes are soft. "Still think you were just thinking about math?"
Russia lets out a shaky laugh. "Definitely not."
"Good." Australia grins, stepping back and adjusting his own jeans. Russia's eyes are drawn to the obvious bulge there. Australia clocks this and crouches in front of him. "You don't looked wrecked enough." He purrs, and pulls out Russia's cock. Russia whines, his cock twitching.
"A-australia, w-wait-" Russia whimpers out, as Australia slowly puts Russia's cock in his mouth, moaning at the taste.
"Fuck, you taste so good..." He moans out, taking more of Russia in his mouth. Russia lets out a breathy moan, his hands tangling in Australia's golden hair. Australia chuckles around him, sending vibrations straight through Russia's core. He's so sensitive from his first orgasm, every touch is amplified, a current of pure pleasure. Australia's tongue is a wicked thing, swirling around the head, flicking against the sensitive frenulum, tracing the prominent vein on the underside.
Russia's hips buck involuntarily, pushing himself deeper into the wet heat of Australia's mouth. Australia takes it easily, his throat relaxing as he swallows around Russia. The sight alone is enough to make Russia's toes curl. He looks down, meeting Australia's eyes, which are dark with lust. The Australian winks, then redoubles his efforts, one hand coming up to cup Russia's balls, rolling them gently.
"Aus... Australia... I'm..." Russia can barely form the words, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He's close, so close, the pressure building again, faster this time, more intense.
Australia, being a dirty bitch, starts fondling Russia. He starts playing with his balls and teasing his hole. Russia gasps, a choked-off sound. "Oh god, please..." he begs, not even sure what he's begging for.
Australia takes this as encouragement. He pulls off Russia's cock with a wet pop, a string of saliva connecting them for a moment before breaking. He looks up at Russia, his expression one of pure, unadulterated filth. "Turn around," he commands.
Russia's brain short-circuits. He obeys without question, turning to face the wall, his hands braced against it for support. He hears the shuffle of fabric behind him, then the sound of a cap clicking open. A slick finger presses against his entrance, and Russia jumps. "Easy," Australia murmurs, his other hand coming to rest on Russia's hip, grounding him. "Just relax."
Russia takes a deep breath, trying to do as he's told. The finger presses in, slowly, carefully. It's a strange sensation, not unpleasant, just... new. Australia moves it in and out a few times before adding a second finger. There's a slight burn, a stretch, but then Australia crooks his fingers just right, and stars explode behind Russia's eyes.
"There it is," Australia says, a smug satisfaction in his tone. He rubs that spot again, and Russia's knees nearly give out. He's a mess of whimpers and pleas, pushing back against Australia's hand, desperate for more.
"Please," he begs again, his voice hoarse. "Please, Australia, I need... I need you."
Australia doesn't make him wait any longer. He removes his fingers, and Russia whines at the loss, but then he feels something much larger pressing against him. Australia's hands grip his hips, holding him steady. "Ready?" he asks, his voice strained with his own need.
Russia just nods, unable to speak. He feels the slow, inexorable press of Australia's cock pushing into him. It's overwhelming, a fullness that borders on pain, but beneath it is a spark of pleasure that promises to ignite into a wildfire. Australia pauses when he's fully seated, giving Russia a moment to adjust.
"Okay?" he asks, his breath hot against Russia's back.
Russia takes a shaky breath. "Okay," he whispers. "You can... you can move."
Australia starts to move, slowly at first, pulling out almost completely before pushing back in. The drag of his cock against Russia's walls is exquisite, a friction that sends sparks of pleasure shooting through him. Australia's hands tighten on his hips, and he picks up the pace, his movements becoming more forceful, more possessive.
"You feel so good," Australia grunts, his rhythm faltering slightly. "So tight... so mine."
Russia is beyond coherent thought. All he can do is feel: the slap of skin against skin, the heat of Australia's body, the pleasure coiling in his gut, Australia's cock hitting that spot inside him with every thrust. He's close, so close, teetering on the edge.
"Touch yourself," Australia commands. "I want to see you come."
Russia fumbles for his own cock, which is already leaking precum. He wraps a hand around it and starts to stroke, his movements clumsy and desperate. It only takes a few strokes before he's spilling over his own hand and the classroom wall, a silent scream tearing from his throat as his body convulses with pleasure.
Australia follows him over the edge a moment later with a loud groan, burying himself deep inside Russia as he comes. They stay like that for a long moment, panting, their bodies slick with sweat, the only sound in the detention room their ragged breaths.
Australia is the first to move, pulling out gently. Russia winces at the sudden emptiness. Australia turns him around, and Russia leans against him, too exhausted to hold himself up. Australia wraps his arms around him, holding him close. "You okay?" he asks, his voice soft.
Russia nods against his chest. "Yeah," he mumbles. "I'm good."
"Good," Australia says, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "Because I'm not done with you yet."
Russia looks up at him, surprised. Australia's blue eyes are dark with a renewed hunger. "What?" Russia asks, his voice barely a whisper.
Australia just grins, a predatory glint in his eyes. "Detention's not over, is it?" He guides Russia back to the teacher's desk, the one he'd been sleeping on not long ago. The surface is cool against Russia's overheated skin as Australia lays him back on it.
"Let's see how loud you can get," Australia purrs, kneeling down between Russia's legs. He doesn't hesitate, taking Russia's already half-hard cock into his mouth. Russia gasps, his back arching off the desk. Australia's tongue is a masterful instrument, swirling and teasing, bringing him back to full hardness in record time.
He's so sensitive, every lick, every suck sends jolts of pleasure through him. Australia's hands grip his thighs, holding him open, holding him still as he devours him. Russia's hands fly to Australia's hair, tangling in the golden strands, not to guide him, but just to anchor himself in the storm of sensation.
Australia pulls off, just for a moment, to look up at him. "That's it," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble. "Let me hear you." He lowers his head again, this time taking Russia all the way in, his nose pressed against Russia's abdomen. Russia cries out, a loud, broken sound that echoes in the empty room. Australia's other hand comes up to play with his balls, rolling them gently, then moving lower to tease his already sensitive hole.
The combination of sensations is too much. Russia is writhing on the desk, a mess of whimpers and pleas, completely at Australia's mercy. He can feel another orgasm building, a slow, deep wave of pleasure that promises to be more intense than the last. Australia seems to sense it. He doubles his efforts, his head bobbing faster, his tongue working frantically.
"Please," Russia begs, his hips bucking up. "Please, don't stop."
Australia has no intention of stopping. He hums around Russia's length, the vibration pushing Russia right to the edge. With a final, desperate cry, Russia comes for the third time, spilling himself down Australia's throat. Australia swallows it all, licking him clean before pulling away with a final, wet kiss to the tip.
Russia is a boneless, panting mess, sprawled across the desk. He feels utterly wrecked, used in the best possible way. He looks down at Australia, who is kneeling there, a smug, satisfied smirk on his face. "Told you," he says, his voice hoarse. "Told you I could make you loud."
Russia just laughs, a breathy, exhausted sound. He feels Australia shift, and then the Australian is climbing onto the desk, straddling his chest. His own cock is hard and heavy, resting against Russia's sternum.
"Your turn," Australia says, his voice low and commanding. "Open up."
Russia's breath hitches. He's never... not like this. But looking up at Australia, at the confident, dominant way he's holding himself, Russia finds he wants nothing more. He opens his mouth.
Australia doesn't waste any time. He guides his cock to Russia's lips, pressing forward slowly. Russia relaxes his jaw, letting Australia in. The taste is musky, salty, uniquely Australia. He's big, and Russia's jaw aches a little, but he doesn't care. He just wants to please.
"Fuck, yeah," Australia groans, his head falling back. He starts to move, slow, shallow thrusts at first, then deeper, more forceful. Russia does his best to keep up, to use his tongue, to hollow his cheeks, but he's inexperienced, and he's overwhelmed. He gags a little as Australia hits the back of his throat.
Australia pulls back immediately. "Easy," he says, his voice softer now. "Breathe. Just breathe." He cups Russia's cheek, his thumb stroking his skin. "You're doing so good."
The praise sends a fresh wave of heat through Russia. He nods, taking a deep breath before opening his mouth again. Australia enters him more slowly this time, letting him adjust. "That's it," he murmurs. "Just like that. Fuck, your mouth feels so good."
Russia basks in the praise, in the feeling of Australia's cock in his mouth, in the knowledge that he's the one causing those groans of pleasure. He reaches up, his hands finding Australia's hips, holding on as Australia starts to move again, a little faster this time, a little deeper. Russia takes it, taking him, wanting more.
Australia's movements become more erratic, his thrusts losing their rhythm. He's close. He looks down at Russia, his blue eyes dark and intense. "Gonna come," he grunts. "Gonna come in that pretty mouth of yours."
Russia moans around him, the sound vibrating through Australia's cock. That's all it takes. With a loud cry, Australia buries himself deep in Russia's throat, spilling himself down his throat. Russia swallows as best he can, some of it escaping to dribble down his chin.
Australia pulls out, collapsing onto the desk beside Russia, both of them breathing heavily. The room is silent save for the sounds of their ragged breaths and the ticking of the clock on the wall. Australia turns his head to look at Russia, a lazy, sated grin on his face. He reaches out, wiping the drop of cum from Russia's chin with his thumb and bringing it to Russia's lips. Russia sucks it clean, his eyes never leaving Australia's.
"You're a natural," Australia says, his voice husky. "A goddamn natural."
Russia just shrugs, a blush creeping up his neck. He feels shy, suddenly, despite everything they've just done. He feels... seen.
Australia seems to sense the shift in his mood. He rolls onto his side, propping his head up on his hand. "What's on your mind, Russki?" he asks, his tone gentle.
Russia hesitates. He doesn't want to ruin this, this fragile thing that's just sprung up between them. But he also can't help but ask. "This... us," he starts, stumbling over the words. "What is this? Is this... just a one-time detention thing?"
Australia's grin fades, replaced by a more serious expression. He studies Russia's face for a long moment. "Is that what you want?" he asks, his voice quiet.
Russia shakes his head. "No," he admits, the word barely a whisper. "I don't think it is."
Australia's smile returns, but it's softer this time, more genuine. He leans in and presses a soft, lingering kiss to Russia's lips. "Good," he murmurs against them. "Because I was kind of hoping you'd let me take you out sometime. For real. No detention required."
Russia's heart does a little flip. He smiles, a real, genuine smile that reaches his eyes. "I'd like that," he says. "I'd like that a lot."
Australia kisses him again, deeper this time. It's a kiss full of promise, a taste of what's to come. When he pulls back, he glances at the clock on the wall. "Shit," he says, a note of panic in his voice. "Detention's almost over. We gotta get dressed."
They scramble off the desk, a flurry of limbs and laughter as they pull on their clothes, their movements clumsy and rushed. Russia buttons his shirt, his fingers fumbling with the tiny buttons. Australia comes up behind him, swatting his hands away. "Here, let me," he says, his fingers deftly doing up the buttons. He then straightens Russia's collar, his touch lingering. "There," he says, his voice low. "Perfect."
Russia turns to face him, his heart thudding in his chest. "You too," he says, reaching up to smooth a stray piece of golden hair from Australia's forehead.
The classroom door creaks open, and they jump apart, guilty as teenagers caught sneaking a kiss. The teacher stands in the doorway, a disapproving look on his face. "Time's up," he says, his voice clipped. "You can go."
They grab their bags and hurry out of the room, not daring to look at each other. But as they step into the empty hallway, Australia's hand finds Russia's, their fingers intertwining. They walk in silence for a moment, the weight of the afternoon settling between them, a comfortable, familiar weight.
"So," Australia says, breaking the silence. "Friday. Pizza. My place. Seven o'clock. Wear something you don't mind getting dirty."
Russia raises an eyebrow. "Dirty?" he asks, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "What exactly did you have in mind?"
Australia just winks. "You'll just have to wait and see, won't you?"
He leans in and gives Russia one last, quick kiss before turning and walking away, leaving Russia standing in the hallway, a goofy grin on his face, his lips still tingling from the kiss. He touches his fingers to them, the ghost of Australia's mouth lingering. Friday couldn't come soon enough.