Summary: Sometime just after WWII. PWP. Not written for accuracy. Germany/England Rated M for violence, sex, and all that good stuff.

AN: I know I could have made this cute and fluffy, but...really, I'm more comfortable this sort of writing ahha~ |D Germany/England requested by the one known as matt-Mail-Jeevas on this site. :3 ILU

Germany shifted his weight on the small bed and turned his wrists in the shackles. The blond winced at the pain but the strong pang of hurt that ran through his chest reminded him of why he was here...what he had allowed to happen... And if nothing else a large part of him felt that he probably deserved much worse. He felt fatigued, what was left of his undershirt and pants felt grimy against his skin. Sweat and blood caused the fabric to cling in places. His appearance was almost altered beyond recognition; his hair filthy and mussed about, hanging in his face; his face bruised, left eye blackened and swollen nearly shut, a split in his upper lip barely scabbed over. Above all else he was thinner, paler, he felt sick, tired, weak, and utterly helpless.

For an instant he thought, this is how someone should feel after losing a war...and everything they really care about... He felt like someone had ripped out his heart as he thought of Italy, Japan, his brother... He couldn't get a straight answer out of anyone concerning the Prussian. France had smirked and mumbled something in French that he didn't quite catch before he gave him another punch to the ribs and finally left. America had simply continued to give him a disgusted look, frowned deeper and told him that they would talk about it later.

Ludwig was having trouble staying sat up. He was so exhausted that even the most uncomfortable bed was welcome, but sleep would have to wait. America had said England was coming. Maybe he could get some answers out of him. Germany shifted again, hoping the pain would help to sharpen his concentration. England had generally seemed the more reasonable of the Allied Forces...so maybe...

"Whatever. The point is: They lost. We won. It's over. There's no use in punching someone who's already down for the count." America frowned deeper tightening his arms which were crossed firmly over his chest as he shot France a disapproving look. The Frenchman simply smiled, fairly pleased with himself as he swirled the liquid in his wine glass lazily, leaning casually against a nearby wall.

"It's bloody over when I say it is! You- You didn't have them bombing your land, day after day! You didn't have them occupying you for God's sake!" The Englishman ranted sweeping his arm across the den as he motioned at the Frenchman. Alfred sighed, glaring harshly at the floor as though his eyes might bore a hole in it, all the way down to the basement where Germany was being kept.

"No." The youngest of the three finally replied his voice quiet but firm. "If they're going to be able to rebuild we can't keep allowing that." Alfred paused and glanced away, biting the inside of his cheek hard enough to make it bleed. "Besides that...after what he's done...after what he did to you..." Alfred clenched his teeth together looking over England's wounds as a shudder of rage ran through him. "If I don't get to beat him within an inch of his life, either do you."

"Wot gives you the right? You shouldn't have any bleedin' say in this anyway! You weren't even here for most of the war. What do you really care? You were just happy as hell to let them tear me-all of us- to pieces as long as you could keep your hands clean." England ranted on, his voice dropping to a low growl at the last sentence. America's expression made it apparent that the words had hit home with much force. France sighed dramatically and took a sip from his wine glass.

"Iggy...you know I couldn't..." America looked heartbroken, hopeless. He sighed, retreating as he knew he was fighting a losing battle. "That's not the point..." He said quietly, letting out an exhausted sigh. "No matter how much you want to, you know we shouldn't hurt him anymore..." He said just loud enough for the others to hear before collapsing into a chair.

"Well." England haughtily and huffed, not allowing himself to feel bad for something he considered to be America's fault in the first place. "I'm going to go talk to him now then." And with that, the Englishman turned on his heel and stomped out of the room.

Alfred held his hands palms up in his lap, staring at them as if they held some profound answer that he simply didn't understand.

"I just...try to do what's best..." He murmured. France patted his shoulder softly and pushed an empty wine glass into his hands, lifting the bottle from the coffee table to fill it crimson liquid.

Germany was pulled out of his half-sleeping daze as the lock on the door was bothered. A moment later the door slammed open, banging loudly against the wall for an instant and ripping him fully into consciousness. Arthur marched his way into the room, flinging the door back closed behind him. Ludwig felt the need to greet the man but thought better of it and held his tongue.

Arthur tucked his arms neatly behind his back as he strolled toward the German, a look of utter distaste prevalent on his face. Ludwig watched anxiously, his good eye wide, body tense, expecting more violence. England stood directly in front of him, only a few feet away.

"Nothing to say? No grand scheme for world dominance now? No ranting about how superior you are?" England spat, his words like venom. Ludwig wisely assumed the questions to be rhetorical.

"Why so quiet? Speak up!" England grabbed a fist full of the other's hair, forcing his head back to look directly up at him as he stared down into the German's eyes intensely, a sadistic smirk playing at the corners of his mouth; his eyes glinted with a hint of madness. "How does it feel for all of us who you thought so inferior, so worthless that we were better off dead...to have defeated you so absolutely?"

Ludwig winced and cringed, more at the closeness, the contact and the Englishman's words than any pain he was caused.

"I-I..." He stammered, unsure if he should actually answer. England frowned bending down so that his face was only an inch from the German's.

"Of course, how could I expect you to articulate an answer? You weren't trained for this were you? No leader to tell you how to behave when you lose." Arthur scoffed softly and turned walking toward the other side of the room. Ludwig felt a stinging, burning pain in his chest and a wave of nausea at the honesty of the Briton's words.

The German stared as England shrugged off his coat, and then began to unbutton his shirt without turning back around. Ludwig wet his lips, his thirst and the dryness of his mouth becoming more apparent to him. His eyes traveled down the man's neck, shoulder, back as more skin was revealed.

"I'm going to show you...show you what you did to me... A country, an entire nation." England turned back toward him. "And you know I'm not the worst case. What you've done to others..." Arthur spoke softly, a hint of sadness in his words. Ludwig knew what the other said was true, and God, he did feel terribly about what happened but... As the Englishman undressed he couldn't help but realize that his mind refused focus on the scars, the old and new wounds... All his eyes clung to were the dips and curves, the muscle tone and smooth skin. He huffed and blushed brightly at the realization of a growing problem and he looked away, swallowing hard as he stared intensely at the wall.

"Don't you dare look away!" England stepped toward him and back handed him fiercely, his body trembling in rage. Ludwig looked up at him helplessly, realizing the other was far too angry to realize the effects this was having on him. "This is what you've done. This is what you have to make up for." England said bluntly pointing at a particularly gruesome wound, frowning down at the other, trembling, eyes bright, threatening to tear at his intense emotion. England stepped back, running a hand though his hair as he tried to calm his shaking and get himself under control.

Ludwig watched as he did so, trying to look only at the damage he had caused, trying desperately to punish himself, to only feel the horrid guilt for the crimes he had committed. Unfortunately, his mind only continued to blur and wonder, noting how perfectly proportioned the man standing in front of him was, how artful and posed and delicious he looked, even pale and shaking and so close to breaking down emotionally. Ludwig's mouth hung open as he stared, his breath becoming more labored as he gawked at the smaller man, blush still tinting his cheeks. The German now became painfully aware that even before he had been defeated he had been too busy to bother with releasing himself. The idea that if he had known this was going to happen he would have made time for it nagged uselessly at the back of his mind.

England gave the German an incredulous look as he stood in nothing but his underwear in front of the shackled man. That was not the face of someone feeling the pain of guilt; Ludwig was quite obviously looking him over for quite a different reason.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" England yelled, balling his fists at his sides and stomping his foot against the floor. Ludwig blushed brighter, averting his eyes and clenching his teeth together, simultaneously chastising himself for his lack of self control and feeling an utter disgust at the thoughts that raced through his mind even in the face of this man he had wronged so horribly.

"Are you that sadistic?" Arthur spat, staring at him in great offense and disbelief. England growled and slapped him hard across the face with the back of his hand again, the German's head snapping to the side at the force. "You see the things you've done and you look at it like that." England sounded appalled and his face expressed this thoroughly.

"N-Nein...Ich...I-I just...seeing you ah..." Ludwig shivered, the blush tinting his cheeks coloring his face darker to match the hand sized whelp on his cheek. He licked his lips and shifted uneasily on the bed, moving his hands in his lap to cover his embarrassing issue and keeping his eyes off the Englishman at all costs.

England scowled at the man in front of him, trying to understand with his rage-clouded mind why the German would look at him in such a way if it wasn't some form of twisted sadism. And then it clicked.

England stepped forward and took the larger man's chin in his hand, tilting it up at his own face. His expression was smug, almost disinterested as he spoke, giving the air of the mildest curiosity.

"You like what you see, Jack Boot?" His voice was quiet; he tilted his head to the side slightly, staring down at the German. Ludwig stared and blinked, his mouth hanging open again, the closeness making him anxious, his breath coming more quickly now. England shifted forward even further, sliding onto the bed, a knee pushing between Germany's legs, adding pressure to his already hardened arousal. Ludwig gasped softly, his heart racing, the closeness and contact driving him mad.

"I said: do you like wot you bloody see you filthy Kraut!" Arthur growled menacingly, snatching a fist full of Germany's hair to pull his head back again more roughly, frowning slightly as he tilted his head the other way, emerald eyes staring down into clouded azure. Ludwig grunted softly and let out a small whine, shifting his hips anxiously. He stared up at the Englishman fearfully, knowing he was entirely at the mercy of the smaller nation...and then he nodded. Just a small motion as the other's grip would allow him to further confirm the Briton's suspicions.

"Nazi scum..." England's eyes narrowed and he didn't release the German's hair as he shifted his knee, causing Ludwig to clench his teeth together, barely stifling a moan. Arthur released his hair and slipped back onto his feet making his way over to his clothing. Ludwig watched each slow careful seamless motion as England bent over, retrieving something before turning back in front of him. Ludwig sucked in a sharp breath at the sight of the blade in the Englishman's hand. Arthur's unimpressed expression didn't change as he slipped the metal under his black tank top and pushed it upward, easily cutting through the fabric.

That useless bit of cloth gone, he pushed the German back onto the bed, making quick work of his pants, tugging them and his shorts off and tossing them aside. Ludwig stared wide eyed at the ceiling, anxiety tightening his chest as he felt soft fingertips running up the inside of his thigh. The German gasped and threw his head back against the mattress, squeezing his eyes shut in spite of the pain as those fingertips ghosted over his throbbing refection.

Arthur let out a low chuckle and climbed onto the bed, straddling Germany as he leaned forward, running his hands over the muscular shoulders, chest abdomen...over the well-toned arms and hips. Ludwig squirmed beneath him, trying desperately to be still and quiet. He turned his head, inhaling the scent of the other deeply, trying to find something that was not the smell of war. Somewhere beneath the gunpowder-blood-sweat-tears there was something that was both familiar and new, the smell of tea and the breeze coming off the open ocean back when the sea was something more than just another battle ground. He closed his eyes and tried savor the moment before letting out a half stifled moan as their arousals pressed together. Ludwig wondered briefly when the other had removed his shorts before all coherent thought was blotted out of his mind.

England wrapped his hands against them both as he moved his hips a little, getting comfortable as he stroked their lengths fully. He licked his lips as he watched the blond beneath him shutter and let out a low shaky moan.

"How does that feel hm?" He stroked them again, smacking the other's hands away as they moved to assist. Arthur adjusted himself, moving his hips up to begin preparing himself as he continued teasing the larger nation.

"'Ow does it bloody feel? ...you dirty German whore." England's hand wrapped around the other's member tighter, squeezing and pulling as he pushed another digit into himself.

"G-Gott...ist...a-ah...hn..." Ludwig tried to stammer out an answer. England slowed his hand as he grimaced, forcing a third finger into his entrance.

"English. You do speak it, don't you? Useless uneducated slut." Arthur concentrated mainly on his own comfort, his hand barely touching the other as it brushed lazily up and down the German's member. Ludwig whimpered, his hips bucking up and his hands balling into tight fists, nails digging hard into his palms, wrists stinging as he pulled against the metal of the shackles, his body writhing needily.

"Please..." Germany let out in a breathless gasp; his eyes slightly open now but lolling back in his head as he lost any semblance of self control to his desire.

"Mmm...Please what~?" Arthur cooed teasingly letting his fingertip play at the other's swollen, leaking head as he rocked gently, impaling himself on his own fingers. The Englishman chewed at his own bottom lip softly as he pushed his fingers searchingly deeper within himself and-

"Ahh..." Arthur let out a little gasp, clamping his mouth shut and pushing his tongue hard against the roof of his mouth to keep from moaning as he brushed the bundle of nerves within himself.

"Please just...just take me...I don't...I-I don't care..." Ludwig begged as he turned his head, pushing the better side of his face into the sheets below harshly. He groaned, self loathing washing over him again for more reasons than he could grasp as he felt the man on top of him shift.

"And yet anything I do to you will still be 1000 times better than what you have done to yourself, Deutschland." Mock pity laced the Englishman's words as he shifted upward, his entrance brushing over the length of the German's member before pushing teasingly at his head.

"Hnn!" Ludwig squirmed and moaned, pitching his hips forward as his back arched, hands uselessly reaching, wishing they had the freedom to grab the smaller nation's hips.

"Be still!" England demanded, his palms pressed against the other's chest, fingers spread wide as he pushed downward, slowly impaling himself on the larger nation's throbbing member.

"Uhhahnn..." Ludwig moaned and squirmed slightly as he fought to be still, the Englishman grunting softly as he caught his breath, becoming accustomed to the intruding member.

"Shh..." Arthur shushed him, leaning down to push a finger against his lips as he moved his hips, beginning to ride him slowly. Ludwig grunted quietly and gave soft moans as England continued to rock on him, up and down now moving faster.

"Ahhh..." Arthur's eyes fluttered closed as he continued, pushing himself down onto the other harder now, and losing himself in the motions, the pleasure rushing over him thoroughly. Germany gasped and writhed beneath him in pleasure, unable to keep his hips from bucking up against the other in time with his steady riding.

"Aghnnn yes..." England huffed and sighed, moaning quietly at the added friction. "Hmmn...more ahh..." He moved on the other harder, faster, their rhythm chaotic now as their motions continued desperately. Ludwig huffed and stared up at the other, enjoying the pleased expressions as the Englishman moved on him, pleasuring himself.

"Un..." Germany thrust upward harder as the other came down, eliciting a louder moan from the smaller nation.

"Gott...ja..." Ludwig bit his lip hard causing it to bleed again as he moved his hands down further, wrapping his long rough fingers around the other's member. England was in no condition to deny himself such attention. He let out a desperate mewl and bucked wildly, impaling himself roughly on the other as he pushed his cock into the German's willing hands.

"Ahh...hnnn..." They continued, hissing and moaning softly, rutting against one another violently in their passion.

"A-Ah! I-I ahhh~" England let out a low moan as he pushed roughly down onto the other one last time, his cock spasming in the German's hand as he came over him.

"Hnn~" He grinned and wiggled his hips, Germany thrusting desperately up into him a few times before he came hard, a shuttering moan accompanying the arching of his back as he released and collapsed limp and panting.

England sat there for a moment, panting before he pulled himself off the other. He stumbled to his feet, collapsing back onto the bed beside the other for a bit as they both caught their breath. Germany said nothing, his mind swam and he felt confused, even dirtier than before. England sat up and Germany followed suit with some difficulty, watching silently as England got up and dressed himself, slipping his coat back on and replacing his knife finally. The Briton turned back toward him stared at the German for a long moment.

"No one will ever forget what you've done Germany..." It wasn't said in a hateful tone, and if anything there was a hint of pity barely traceable deep beneath the surface. Ludwig nodded, looking the other in the eyes before wetting his lips and turning to stare down at the floor, his thoughts coming slowly in his state of utter exhaustion.

"Either will I..." He replied finally and looked up as England turned to leave. "England!" He called out as the man reached for the door knob. "W-Where is my brother? How is he...?" He asked, the desperation in his voice absolute. Arthur paused and didn't turn around as he answered.

"Russia has him." He said simply and quietly before leaving because there was nothing left to say.

Ludwig stared blankly at the door, mouth agape as his mind forced it's self to relay the meaning of the Englishman's words...what that really meant... Germany shuddered, tears coming to his eyes as he fell on his side, back on to the bed, and curled up faceing the wall. He closed his eyes, warm tears falling down his face before his mind shut down, letting him fall into the dark warm arms of a deep oblivion and dreamless sleep.

More AN: I felt like France kind of needed to be there, but...I'm not sure about myself writing him and I suck at French, thus the lack of dialog.