Credit: Thank you so much my beta reader, NightHuntress19

Disclaimer: If Hetalia were mine, Himaruya would be the one writing this fanfic XD

Warning: Not recommended for those with low toleration for reversible pairing yaoi lemon PWP containing manipulative uke, girly men (especially the initial seme), and overdose sap

Even If the World Ends Tomorrow

In mid-fourteenth century, the Black Death snatched away more than half of the world population. At the dawn of the thirtieth century, a new disease seized the world. Medical experts across the globe had strove to find the cure, but to no avail. The earth was dying, not from global warming or alien invasion, but from the catastrophic grasp of the disease that made Ebola seem as trivial as a common hay fever.

Medor Flu—so the extremely contagious disease was called—had originated from the Medium Oriens or the Middle East. The bacteria thrived best in hot climate, but could also survive frigid temperature up to zero degree Kelvin, albeit growing slower in the cold. These bacteria multiplied sporadically and dehydrated the victim from the inside, sucking all the liquid in the body and leaving the corpse in the semblance of the aridity of the desert. The good news was—if there were any comfort in the hour of grief—that the victim did not have to suffer for long; three hours and twenty-one second had been the world's record of the maximum period of survival. Fearsome was the ailment; and not a soul knew the secret of its cure. Countries had begun to fall. The tropical ones had ceased to exist. Those under more intemperate weather still clung to dear life, with over eighty percent of their population destroyed, and there was no telling how long they could hang on.

It was for this reason that Poland had made up his mind to confess his true feelings to Lithuania. Hence, using a discussion of the exported merchandise as a pretense, the golden-haired nation lured his ally to one of the top hotels in Warsaw.

Although Lithuania found it odd that the discussion would take place in the presidential suite, rather than in the conference room, he brushed the issue aside, thinking that this must be one of Poland's quirks. Besides, what was he to complain, when he was presented with a sumptuous one-hundred-and-thirty-square-meter room with a panoramic view to the skyscrapers by the Vistula River?

"Poland?" Lithuania called as he entered the conjoint double bedroom, after closing the opulently carved alder door. The vestibule was quiet. The decorated cornice stared at him in their silence, trying to give him a warning he could never understand. The tapping of his shoes against the Wunsiedel Marble floor reverberated in the suite.

"I'm here." A familiar voice answered from the bedroom on the left hand side.

Tracing the source of his ally's voice, Lithuania stepped into the bedroom. The ballroom of a bedroom hosted the requisite high ceilings and impressively heavy shutters that came as standard issue in country piles. Its lavishly appointed interior was bedecked with floor-length sash windows, majestic color scheme and design-savvy contemporary furniture. Its floor was draped with the sumptuous furnishing of leopard print tufted carpet. At its heart, lay a dais upon which a four-poster canopy round bed perched.

"I've brought some vanilla torte for our coffee break. Would you prefer it served chilled or at room tempera—"

Lithuania could not finish his sentence, for the sight before him made his pupils dilate and his hand drop the cake box: an entirely naked Poland was reclining on the super-king bed.

As was the case with most other currently surviving nations, Poland was close to emaciation. With the rapidly increasing mortality rate of farmers, traders, and many others in the wake of the disastrous disease that had wiped out far greater number than any record throughout the span of the world history, agriculture slumped down. Owing to such extensive lack of food, there was no telling for how much longer the earth would persist.

Even so, in Lithuania's bewildered eyes, gauntness could not rob Poland of his charm. How the brunet wished he could tear his gaze off from the unblemished complexion, but instead he found himself staring endlessly, enchanted by each curve Poland's body possessed! The color of the maroon bedcover contrasted to the paleness of Poland's bare skin. The soft golden curls that nestled at the joining of the recumbent nation's thighs were inviting. The body was so lithe and smooth, though not without deficit. It possessed neither the firm musculature of an athlete nor the chubbiness of a cherub. It just was beautiful because it was Poland's.

The polite nation felt his heart hammering. How could he even be sure that this was real when everything he had been dreaming of was happening in a burst? He braced himself to ask, "W-why aren't you wearing any clothes?"

Poland gave him no answer; the carefree nation simply smiled.

Lithuania could feel heat rushing up his cheeks. 'He's my friend. He's my FRIEND. Friends don't have sex with each other.'

Lithuania gulped. "Aren't you … um … cold?"

"If you're worried that I'm cold, why don't you warm me up?"

'He's my BEST FRIEND.' "I…" Lithuania did not know what to say. He twitched at the sight of a bottle of lubricant on the bedside cabinet. The constraint of the pants covering his midsection wasn't helping either.

"For goodness' sake, come here. How long do you plan to keep me waiting, Liet?"

Lithuania's fists clenched and unclenched. He took two steps forward, but then halted. "We've shared over a millennium of friendship. Why you suddenly…"

"Oh, face it, Lietuva. We may not last until tomorrow. Or the day after that. With this crazy disease everywhere, it's only a matter of time before all nations die. So, I thought I should at least let you know my feelings. And no, don't pretend you don't feel the same."

Hesitation clouded Lithuania. He could not deny the truth in his ally's statement, and yet, it felt so wrong to let go the status of "friends" that had rooted deep inside his heart since an eon ago. His mind became a whirling mass of moral reproach and urging desire. The contradictions were taking root and sending tendrils creeping through his thoughts.

Poland spoke again, "Our relationship in the past was no more than a marriage in name. Our union between 1385 and 1569 was arranged, but if you had truly never loved me back, would you have established a commonwealth with me from 1569 to 1795? You just don't have the guts to sleep with me, admit it!"

Lithuania's mouth opened and closed, but it emitted no sound.

Seeing that his adversary made no sign to move forward, Poland rose from the bed and approached Lithuania instead. His hips swayed seductively with each step and, without further warning, he snatched the brunet's lips in a ravenous kiss.

Lithuania tried hard to resist the soft press of Poland's tongue as well as the swell of the other nation's manhood against the center of his trousers. The blond pulled his body closer and kissed and kissed again until the brunet's reluctance crumbled. Nevertheless, it was not until the Pole moved his hands to confine him within his embrace, stroking the brown hair as they kissed, that the Lithuanian became cognizant he was really lost. Poland was planting one hell of a continuous kiss that muffled the tenseness in Lithuania's muscles and lit fire in his groin.

As the kiss broke, Lithuania looked away, flustered. Now he had lost every last bit of assurance that his body would not betray him in Poland's presence; the tender caresses of the other nation's lips roused the dormant desire inside him. "I-it's just that … I've never thought about you in … this way."

It was a blatant lie. It had been his imaginations of Poland that helped him survive Russia's tyrannical sway. It had been his imaginations of Poland that made him miss home so bad that he slept with America once. It had been his imaginations of Poland that he appreciated Belarus' beauty more than he used to be—their similar features of fair complexion and light-colored tresses as well as their spiky personalities. Nonetheless, Poland did not need to know any of these.

"Well, you do now." A conspicuous smirk, full of triumph, graced Poland's lips. There was a queer power in his spoken word. One pierce was enough to perforate Lithuania's walls of defense.

The chemistry of Poland's brainwork was a mystery. One second the blond pulled Lithuania up and next, he pushed him down. Never before had Lithuania suspected that Poland could ever possess such a predatory trait. He could only watch agape as Poland pounced, steering both of them onto the bed in a tangled heap, hands slamming into his shoulders, pinning him. Along with the rush of heat, tints of crimson bedecked his cheeks. The cool satin bed sheet crumpled beneath the unceremonious thud of the two nations' weight.

Poland immediately rolled the brunet onto his back and straddled his partner. Eyes smoldering with the hunger, the eccentric nation stared down at his ally. He sought out the mouth of the nation below him again, playfully nipping Lithuania's lower lip before planting another kiss.

"Wait!" Lithuania tried to reason with Poland. "You may be desperate just to get laid because of the global crisis, but having sex out of frustration isn't right."

Poland did stop pushing himself at Lithuania, but something direr than what Lithuania had dared to expect occurred. Poland's body was shaking, his face livid. When he spoke, his voice had lost all of his usual merriment. "Desperate just to get laid? You mean, like, I'd willingly give myself to anyone? Is that what you think of me—a slut?"

Lithuania gulped. All his life, he had never seen Poland this furious before.

"You can't take hints very well, can you?"

Eyebrows arching in confusion, Lithuania asked, "What hints?"

"One Halloween, I dressed up with a frilly skirt and a big bow like what Belarus wears just because you were so hyped up about going out with her once—with your broken fingers as a price for the 'tryst.'"

A loud thump coming from Lithuania's heart made him worry in case his chest would explode. Poland—the ever-so-selfish Poland—loved him to such an extent? "You … you mean … you wore that feminine outfit for me?"

"What else would have made me do it, dammit?!"

'I thought that was a weird hobby of yours,' Lithuania nearly blurted, but prudently held his tongue.

Poland folded his arms across his chest and huffed. "That's just one out of many examples I can list to you, but it'll probably take three days if you want to listen to them all."

"All right. I get it. Perhaps you love me more than I thought you could, but that doesn't make it right for us to … to … sleep together."

"Geez, Liet, what are you so afraid of? It's not like either of us is a virgin." Poland shifted and pulled Lithuania's tie.

The brown-haired nation caught his partner by the wrist. "I still don't want to lose my best friend. Love can start with friendship, but frequently ends with enmity."

"Are you stupid or what?" Poland shook his head incredulously. "Have me as both your best friend and lover!"

Lithuania was about to say something in reply, but Poland beat him into it. "I've waited for almost 1,800 years for this. As a friend, won't you at least give me a chance?"

Lithuania thought about it. Poland's green eyes were earnest with sincerity.

"Very well," he said after drawing a quick breath, "Once. We'll stop immediately if there's anything wrong and then we'll go back to being frie—" Lithuania felt a tug on his trousers; Poland had already begun undressing him.

Lithuania nearly failed at suppressing his gasp; Poland ripped his shirt open in one hard yank, sending the buttons flying. This was the strength of a nation who had defied the mighty Russia for his sake—albeit at other times, the said strength was overshadowed by Poland's shyness.

"Hey, slow down!" Lithuania grabbed Poland's hands. "What's the rush?"

"You may change your mind later, so I'd better hurry before it happens."

"No, I won't. I'm not going to interrupt until you're done."

"Promise?"

During his three millennia of lifetime, Lithuania had been accustomed to see the "puppy eyes" look that Poland put on whenever he demanded something, but this did not mean that he had proven successful in any of his attempts at resistance to the pleading eyes. He had no choice but to give his adversary a solemn nod. "I promise."

Poland's face brightened with joy at once. Complying, he removed his partner's shirt with slower deliberation and punctuated each tug with a small kiss. While pulling Lithuania's trousers and boxers off, Poland grazed at the scanty brown curls between the recumbent nation's legs.

The brown-haired nation couldn't hide his embarrassment as the flesh on his midsection pointed straight up to the ceiling at the sight of Poland crawling up on his hands and knees, his stomach raking Lithuania's thighs.

However, Lithuania cast a quizzical look the moment Poland ensconced himself atop the reclining nation's thighs.

'This position … does it mean… But it can't be. Surely, the egoistic Poland wouldn't offer himself to be penetrated?'

"Um, Poland, aren't you going to…" He swallowed thickly. "…enter me?"

"Since you're so reluctant to get laid, I thought you wouldn't want to receive the pain, so I've prepared myself."

'You went that far just for my sake?' was what Lithuania intended to say, but his lips locked themselves tightly. Only unshed tears swam in his eyes. 'The usually selfish you placed me in a higher priority than yourself? Do you love me that much? Oh, Poland…'

Tracing the curves of Poland's body, Lithuania deluged himself in the ecstatic feel of his partner's smooth skin against his palm. This feeling of such exquisite flesh under his hands … was this what people called "divine"?

Lithuania gasped. Looming over him, Poland's nipples rubbed his incessantly until all four protuberances hardened at the friction against one another. Poland lifted his leg and slid his thigh down the other nation's side. His skin was so soft that Lithuania wanted to touch it, kiss it, lick it, be lost forever in his partner's warmth. His rigid flesh wept from wanting the Pole. And here he was, presenting himself as a relief, with his delicate body wrapping around the Lithuanian's aching shaft and his hands reaching for the recumbent nation.

'Poland, Poland, I want you.'

Lithuania panted. His manhood had already swelled up between his legs and poised at Poland's entrance. He felt it throb with the need to slide into his partner's inviting orifice.

'Your feelings…'

He reveled in the sensation of his partner's body pressed against his, surrendering himself.

'Your body…'

He lay back and relaxed as Poland put a slender arm around his chest.

'I want them all.'

A long leg crossed his and the other nation's shapely calf muscles rubbed lightly against his.

'And I give you all of myself in exchange.'

Poland took what his partner offered. A warm hand lightly cupped the brunet's spheres, sending a pleasurable shiver up his spine. The hand ran up his manhood, encouraging it to greater length with gentle little squeezes. The blond stared intently at the other nation's growing erection. He licked his own lips and put a hand around the much-teased shaft. His eyes gleamed hungrily at the sight of the flesh aching with need. Poland commanded Lithuania's body, and the captive, who had been enslaved to the lusts instilled in his body, eagerly yielded.

The blond steered the brunet's shaft into his fissure, spreading the cheeks of his buttocks and parting his thighs to allow his partner entrance. Slowly, gradually, he sat down, drawing his lover up into the deep cleavage of his rump.

Lithuania moved his hips upward, following his ally's lead, and gulped as the other nation's flesh parted to engulf the tip of his length; his hard column of flesh parted the inward-curving slopes of his partner's buttocks. He looked up at Poland's beauty, marking every line of the other nation's graceful form. A wave of profound pleasure washed over him as his beloved sheathed him in his silken flesh.

Poland's body, Lithuania gathered, was a mystery. It felt so hot like a furnace, and yet, so soft like satin at the same time. Although the tunnel was tight, it was slick enough thanks to the courtesy of the lube that Poland had applied to himself prior to Lithuania's arrival. The slow, exquisite slide into his partner was the most fabulous sensation Lithuania had ever known; nothing in his life had ever felt so … nice. The delectable pleasure almost made him come and he had to struggle to gain control over his own body.

'Poland, oh Poland, even if my very being is destroyed in this epidemic, my love for you will live on.'

Poland shivered and yowled as Lithuania's hard member stretched him. His muscles squeezed and pulsed around his partner. All the same, the grunts of pleasure from the nation beneath him made his balls tighten. Soon afterwards, he could not help but thrust his hips up and down, skewering himself into Lithuania's erection with greater urgency. His tight walls pressed around Lithuania's manhood, flooding his beloved with his heat. Beads of perspiration rolled across the plane of his chest and down a concave stomach.

Lithuania had lost count of how many moans he had emitted. The more he touched Poland, the more he writhed and squirmed as an uncontrollable fire burned in his body to the point where he thought the pleasure might tear him asunder.

'Poland, let me make love to you.'

"Feel more of me," encouraged the golden-haired nation, his moist lips making his partner ache to touch them.

Poland moved his pelvis in circles, rubbing his partner's masculine rigor inside his most intimate channel and making Lithuania's body writhe against his undulating body. He placed his palms on either side of his lover's chest and let his own hips rise and fall with slow strokes. He was now riding the brunet hard, sitting astride whilst his body joint with the other nation's.

It was too early for Lithuania to be surprised at his ally's boldness in bed. Poland bent and placed both hands on his partner's exquisite rump, drawing the willing rigidity deeper into his body while his hips moved up and down.

"Harder?" offered Lithuania uncertainly.

"Yes! Just do it, dammit!"

Hence, the brown-haired nation placed his hands on his partner's hips, holding his partner in position. He drew all the way out and penetrated anew with each thrust, panting and moaning. He thrust with the strength of a bear, with what the Russian reign had hewn him. He poured out exertion, trying to drown his thoughts in the rough, needy, desperate pounding. His muscles ached and sweat matted his hair. Every moment of resistance, every ounce of energy he had spent keeping himself in control these past centuries, erupted in that moment.

Poland's body made an unmissable jerk.

However, when Lithuania endeavored for gentleness by instinct, lessening the vehemence in his thrusts, the golden-haired nation commanded, "No, don't treat me gently. Fuck me. Break me up. I want to shatter in your embrace."

Lithuania found it hard to comply with such a wish. He had endured the dark years under the Russian hegemony. He still remembered how the sadistic tall nation enjoyed it to the utmost when the underlings squirmed with pain. Back then, each night was a wait in tremor, each nation worried about which of them would be allotted with the accursed luck of Ivan's selected partner. He had no lack of torture device and, alas, his creativity knew no limit. Sometimes, the Russian even ordered them to perform sex in a large group.

Lithuania's heart throbbed at the very thought. How could he let his dear Poland experience the same terror? Yet, the power of reasoning did not linger for long. Self-control was not something he could maintain when the smooth, slippery walls of Poland's lubricated tunnel captured his own manhood, his muscles squeezing and clutching, encouraging the spurt of a massive load of seed.

Whatever had been in his mind was no longer important. The only things that mattered were the vision, sound, smell, touch, and feel of the beauty riding him. Poland was there, above him, straddling his body and sighed in pleasure with every thrust. Lithuania placed his hands on the warm curves of his partner's rump his buttocks as he drove his pillar of heat up into Poland's luscious body over and over again.

'Poland, I love you. I've been in love with you since the end of the fourteenth century.'

Life was a battle. Of course, there were times when Lithuania needed to fight against the soldiers at the battlefield, but right now, he needed to fight the urge to spill. He was lost to helpless pleasure. His partner's orifice rippled along the length of his shaft, tugging and teasing him, slurping and sucking. He couldn't stop. His virility slammed into his lover again and again. The whole bed, despite its steel frame, was bouncing with his movements. The rhythm of love and lust escalated faster and faster until right before the brunet emptied himself, when his partner suddenly arched his pelvis into Lithuania's unexpecting one and the blond's violent spasms started.

Lithuania grabbed Poland's thrashing, wriggling body and held it down, constricting his lover into the closest semblance of stillness that he could. He narrowed his focus down to the feeling of hot, flushed, sweaty, pliant flesh above his body; Poland, who typically displayed carefree demeanor, was now writhing desperately for his touches. Only then did the brunet begin to release a steady stream into the confines of his partner's inner walls.

An insistent, tickling sensation raged inside Lithuania's groin, and his balls seemed to implode within his strenuously tight sac. There was an undeniably rigorous surge within him, and liquid jetted forth in uncontrollable bursts from his convulsing virility. He burst inside his lover, twisting into the other nation, filling the delicate, yet tight, body above him. His streams of the fecundating fluid coursing down the walls of his lover's gaping orifice and into the depths of the eccentric nation's recesses. His fingers clutching Poland's buttocks as the blond's body wrapped around him, evoking a shout from his mouth as he poured himself into his beloved. He spilled his essence, his devotion, his very being into the nation whom he held most dear throughout the entire universe.

As the brunet jerked and spurted in a flood, Poland squealed in delirium as his lover's seed filled him. His rectal muscles bunched up around the base of Lithuania's manhood and rolled back up the length, squeezing every last drop of semen as he trembled in the grip of a vehement climax. It was the same shudder that sent him to his own orgasm. He met his partner's orgasm and shuttered around his beloved Lithuania's pulsating erection, until the nation on top collapsed, limp, onto the other nation's awaiting torso, their bodies still joined to each other.

Both were panting for breath. Lithuania's knees were drawn up and Poland's hips were pushed down to keep the brunet's draining manhood inside his eager partner. Lithuania elevated his hips and looked up at his gorgeous lover as the other nation stared back at him with an affectionate gleam, flushed cheeks, and parted lips. The grunted as he shuddered inside Poland once more, emptying the last drop of his seed into the entity he had held most precious since the 1300's. At that moment, no creature alive was in a more enraptured state than Toris Laurinaitis was.

When Lithuania's member had started to dwindle, and he made an attempt to pull it out, his partner forbade him, "Don't!" Poland pressed his pelvis against his lover's, refusing to allow any distance between their bodies. "I still want to feel you inside me."

Thus, Lithuania obliged. He planted little kisses on the side of his partner's neck. Enveloping his lover with his arms, he listened to the other nation's heartbeat and thought, 'Poland, it's in your heart that I live and die.'

With the vanilla torte on the floor long forgotten, Lithuania let the post-orgasm stupor overtake him. He had not had sex for a long time and the performance drained stamina from him. As the afternoon's golden glow dimmed into vermillion sunset, he would like nothing else than immerse himself in deep slumber, but alas, Poland woke him up by means of a shake on the shoulders.

Through half-lidded eyes, Lithuania looked at the disturber of his peace. The blond was standing next to the bed, and, pulling his lover's hand, he exhorted, "Hey, let's take a bath."

Lithuania glimpsed at the gold-gilded clock on the wall. He had slept for only less than thirty minutes and would actually prefer further resting, but more than anything, he hated to say "no" to his beloved's request. He followed Poland into the adjoining bathroom without a word of protest.

The lavish bathroom offered unrivalled luxury, space, décor and amenities. It featured a state-of-the-art technology of lighting system, mini bar, electronic entertainment, and some other functions that Lithuania did not even recognize at the first glance. A walk-in chromo therapeutic shower, stacked with the queen of luxury toiletries, stood at one corner. Beneath an oval-domed ceiling, stretched a sunken Jacuzzi of black lava stone of which pool-sized perimeter was illuminated with multi-colored lights.

Looking at the water that filled the Jacuzzi up to three quarters full, Lithuania understood why Poland had allowed him some time for rest earlier. What he did not understand was the absence of soapy bubbles in the bath. Silently, he watched Poland stepping into the pool; the golden-haired nation looked like a living work of art with his fair skin being surrounded by the colorful water that immersed him up to his thighs. Lithuania wondered if he could defy the law of gravity, would he be able to prevent himself from falling for Poland all over again?

"Come here! What are you shying away for?" invited Poland.

Not unaware of the tension in his lower half, Lithuania stepped cautiously to join his lover in the bath. He settled at one side, trying the best angle to hide his protruding manhood—which did not help, since the transparency of the water revealed everything. Eventually, he had to resolve with curling his knees up to his chest.

"I thought you preferred warmer temperature for bathing," he commented whilst trying to hide his chagrin, shades of pink coloring his countenance.

"As a matter of fact, I do," answered his partner, "But I have my own reasons."

With that, Poland shifted closer to Lithuania. "Geez, you're too shy for your own good. Must I initiate everything?"

Lithuania made a noticeable gulp, a familiar heat daubing his cheeks with deeper tint of crimson. The other nation was too close. Far too close. "B-but we agreed to do it just once."

"To do what, exactly?" Now Poland's eyes seemed insidious, his lips were graced with a smirk that was not to Lithuania's liking, and his palms took the liberty of stationing themselves on the brunet's knees to wedge them apart.

"S-sex!" replied Lithuania as he frantically covered his crotch with both hands.

"Ah, but I also recall you say something about not interrupting me until I finish. I haven't even started, you see?"

"You can't be thinking of…" Lithuania's eyes widened with the realization of the sudden dread. He tried to get away from the other nation, but Poland held his knees firmly in place.

"Poland…"

"Yes, dear?"

'Dear?' Whatever had been at the tip of Lithuania's tongue now dissipated into naught, his mind turning into a blank slate. Poland had just called him "dear"!

Poland positioned himself between Lithuania's opened legs and leaned to bring his face closer. "Your confused expression makes me want to eat you up all the more."

The kiss Poland planted on Lithuania's lips was nothing like the teasing kisses they had shared before. It was full of demand, of domination, of acceptance, of love. The force of such an ardent kiss gently pushed the brunet to the edge of the tub.

Lithuania fell onto his back, his legs splayed invitingly. His blush deepened the moment he saw Poland's oh-so-delicious clavicles and rosy nipples come at him. The hard stone bit into his bare flesh and he squirmed uncomfortably. The lukewarm water enabled him to distinguish the searing heat of Poland's body against his own skin, particularly the flanking of his inner thighs around his lover's hips.

While his mouth lightly nuzzled Lithuania's neck, Poland's fingers moved in delicate circles around the pectoral nubs of his lover's rings of color. The twin light brown tips instantly hardened under his touch.

"Has anyone told you that your right nipple is, like, more sensitive than your left one?"

"P-poland!" the abused nation panted.

'Why am I helplessly in love with this cheeky dork?'

The called nation smirked, but did not stop. His hand travelled downward. Down, down, down. Poland tickled a sensitive point midway between his lover's rear opening and balls. Next, earnest fingers with jagged nails dug into Lithuania's butt cheeks, and pulling them apart in sought for the warmth of yielding flesh.

Lithuania writhed as the bathwater intruded into his private channel. Now he realized why Poland had purposely kept the temperature mild and not poured any bubble bath. He reached for his partner's back and clung to it, desperate with need.

Lithuania had, of course, undergone far rougher sex back in the Russian training days, but it all had been so long ago. He had been practically untouched for centuries now and couldn't help mewling like a blushing virgin when one of Poland's fingers prodded his fissure.

Amidst the thin steam curling up from the bath and the hazy blur of his own lustful desire, Lithuania heard Poland's amused voice, "I didn't know you could make that sound."

Poland re-entered his lover; yet, it was not his finger this time, but something bigger, thicker. Lithuania struggled to escape it, but he couldn't. The intruder persistently rubbed his entrance until it was granted the access it had been seeking. Besides, the blond slid his hand to the brunet's buttocks and pulled them against him firmly, letting the dominated nation feel how hard he had become for his best friend.

Streaks of perspiration laved Poland's forehead as the tip of his hardened member went in. "This won't do. Open your legs wider."

Unlike the case with Poland earlier, Lithuania had not been lubricated. Although the bathwater did help, the penetration inclined more toward the pushing of an obstinate old engine rather than a smooth glide of an oiled machine.

Eyebrows furrowing in the throe of their friction, the brown-haired nation whimpered. However, before he even finished what he himself emanated, he bit his lip to stifle his voice.

"Won't you let me hear your voice?" asked his partner.

Lithuania did not answer; only, his fluster grew more conspicuous.

"Don't worry; the room's soundproof."

'Still, it's too embarrassing,' he wanted to say, but all he could manage was to shake his head. It was as though the walls, the ceiling, and the toiletries had served as witnesses of his bodily union with his lover.

Poland sneered. "In that case, I won't stop until I hear you moan." With that, he jostled the full head of his bulging member into Lithuania's orifice.

The bulge in the blond's eyes enunciated his agony, but his partner could not see this. He placed his face next to Poland's head and hugged Poland tightly, both wrists crossing below Poland's nape and both forearms resting on the crooks of Poland's neck. His mouth clenched tight in a muffled scream.

Even without the pressure of Lithuania's knuckles against his upper back, Poland did not fail to notice his lover's hitched breath. He halted his movement inside his lover, waiting until the blond's ragged breathing calmed down. Only after Lithuania's silent gasps had diminished did Poland shifted gently to face his partner.

Planting a gentle kiss on the inside of his beloved's upper arm, he assigned his mouth to emit no word; it was his eyes that spoke everything Lithuania needed to know: 'Sorry, I hurt you.'

Unshed tears swam in the blond nation's eyes. He knew it was his fatal mistake to forgive Poland's teasing so easily; and yet, he could not help it. He loved Poland so much. Too much. One apologetic look from Poland was enough to make him feel the egoistical nation's care and affection. And Lithuania treasured this feeling as an ultimate exultation.

There was so much he wanted to convey, so many things he wanted to tell Poland. Even so, his quivering lips allowed him only to pronounce his lover's name—the name which, in his heart, mattered more than the earth and sky. "Po … land."

In attempt to ease his ally's agony, Poland brushed his lips against Lithuania's. The brunet's lips parted and soon what had begun as a light touch turned into a firmer press, their tongues jousting between their fervent mouths. His partner's arms encircled his back as the other nation pulled him down on his chest, until the blond felt his lover's erect nipples pressing against him.

'Poland…'

Poland gained his entrance into Lithuania slowly, feeling every part of the glorious flesh as it tightly gripped his masculinity, and then started to pull that hard stalk deeper inside. He slid his manhood another inch inside his brown-haired lover, halting as he savored the look of pain and yearning on Lithuania's face. The nation opposite him groaned in contentment, then started writhing again, searching for more.

'Poland, the two of us are connected.'

How could Poland resist such a sultry look from Lithuania? He claimed the inviting lips before him, tongue snaking deep into his lover's mouth. The Lithuanian didn't recoil for a moment; in fact, he pressed further, grinding his hips in the Polish hands, his crotch moving against the other nation.

'Poland, I'd rather endure war, starvation, poverty, volcanic eruption, earthquake, tsunami, global warming and epidemic altogether than a world without you in it.'

The blond continued to enter his partner, savoring the feel of his every inch disappearing into his ally's tightness. Wider and wider, Poland's manhood opened Lithuania, going deeper and then it tapered off and his body closed around it, trapping it inside of him, thick and hard. When more of his length bumped his lover's inner walls, but his bulbous sac hadn't yet touched his receiving partner's orifice, he waited until Lithuania's body stretched to accommodate him before pushing in a little harder.

'Poland, I love you!'

Poland stared at the bewitching beauty beneath his body. Those green eyes fluttered open and Lithuania gazed back at him, gasping and huffing. As he buried the entire length of his organ inside his lover's rectum, his pubic hair rasped against the sleek flesh of the other nation's impaled buttocks. Lithuania's channel fluttered frantically about his invading member, as though attempting—no matter how vainly—to dislodge the trespassing organ.

Poland waited for the spasms to subside. Then, sinking into his partner, the blond jammed into the brunet hard. He twisted inside of his lover, barely moving, and the nation he had been in love with for sixteen centuries now rotated his hips below him, with slightly parted lips and pleasurable sighs.

The golden-haired nation teased his ally again. "You're very sensitive to pain, aren't you?"

'And you just have to mention it now of all times?' With rising eyebrows, Lithuania gazed chidingly at his lover through half-lidded eyes. Poland's cheekiness was nothing new, and hence, the usage of such words to ruin the mood was to be expected. But still…

What came unexpected was the Poland's impeccable timing in planting his maddening kisses on Lithuania's lips. The brunet blinked as the gentle pressure of the other nation firmly settled itself on his mouth. Then, as Poland deepened the kiss, Lithuania angled his head to accept it better.

"Poland, please…"

"Please what?"

'Smother me with your love until I suffocate.'

Lithuania's back arched to drag Poland into him deeper. He wrapped his arms around Poland's shoulders and his legs around Poland's lower back, and they pulled and pushed against each other, gasping and straining to melt together. The brunet shuddered. Behind him, the gurgles of water from the Jacuzzi pushed him forward. In front of him, an amorous nation pinned him down and showered him with a slew of kisses. Moans left his mouth unbidden as the Lithuania's body bent to the will of the claimer. His eyes were closed, lost to the sensation of Poland's thighs pounding his rump. The blond nation was leaning against him on the wall of the bathtub, rocking him in frenzied undulations and pumping in fluid motion. His lover took control of his mind, his physical being, his captive soul.

Poland instinctively thrust his hips against the writhing nation before him, groaning as he felt a part of him slide deeper into the sumptuous sheath that was Lithuania's inner walls. Back and forth, with greater force and an ever-increasing tempo, his rigid manhood pumped inside the receiving nation. His partner's muscles aided him, pushing against his back with rhythmic contractions that grew faster and faster as the brunet's excitement grew.

Lithuania cried out at his lover's tremendous force, the pace quickening and his partner moving the positions, seeking ever deeper access, ever more intimate embraces and fervent kisses. Owing to the two nation's raging passion, water splashed around them, flooding the bathroom floor. Two bodies were united, clashing in a hectic rhythm, which sprung from desire and dread. There was no guarantee what heaven had in store for them tomorrow, and every fleck of emotion bled into the next.

'Don't stop. Don't ever stop. Within your embrace, I lose myself. Without it, I find myself wanting to be lost again.'

Poland slid his hands below to scoop his partner, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of his beloved Lithuania's rear. He latched onto the brunet's neck, sucking at his delicate skin. He slammed into the other nation hard, lifting his hips from the bathtub, and start pounding into Lithuania again, even faster, moving in a blurring speed until everything dissolved inside of his lover.

'If you keep moving in this way, I'll…'

"Aahhh!"

Lithuania screamed with the need to explode. Poland was still inside him, no less hard than the lava stone that was their bathtub. Nonetheless, the blond halted his movement so as to allow his lover to ride his peak. To breathe. The spurt of Lithuania's essence mingled with the bathwater that immersed their two bodies.

'Oh, Poland, I feel you … I feel you pulsing inside me.'

Even after the eruption subsided, Lithuania's body gripped Poland's tighter, arms clinging over his lover's back and legs locking around his partner's hips, pulling the other nation to him. The brunet contracted all around his lover's ardent column, squeezing him with the moist flesh of his inner walls until the blond could only shudder as the pressure of the imminent release thrummed through his body.

The Pole man shuddered against his partner, balls coming to rest against the smooth skin of the Lithuanian's buttocks. The intensity of Lithuania's climax—the pulse of the walls of his most intimate channel around his member—was too much for Poland to bear, and he shoved himself hard into his partner's heat in one last attempt to give his beloved everything those strange, enchanting green eyes had ever besought him for. He poured it all into Lithuania—every devotion, every longing, every particle of himself. Then, as spurt upon spurt of pearlescent liquid flowed from his body, he learned that heavens could still exist on earth, even in this era of global crisis.

Poland did not withdraw even though the last drip of his essence had seeped out of his dwindling flesh. Instead, he stayed in his lover's embrace, feeling the other nation's bare skin against his own. Nothing, nothing in the world separated their beating hearts but their own flesh and bones.

Poland's eyes found Lithuania's and locked them in a tender gaze. "You know, I used to think that I wouldn't mind dying tomorrow as long as I get to unite with you today, but strangely, now I long for immortality. I don't want to lose you. Ever. I wish for an eternity to spend with you."

'Poland, I, too, think that losing this … bliss … would be worse than death.'

More tints of crimson washed over Lithuania's face. He averted his gaze from his lover's, but held Poland's arms tighter and mumbled, "We need another bath."

"Let's hit the shower," offered the blond nation, realizing how much sweat had laved their bodies.

There was a considerable degree of reluctance when Lithuania let go of his lover's body, so that the both of them could stand up. A new type of worry weighed his mind: he had promised himself not to be involved in intimate relationship with Poland, but how could he survive without his lover's warmth after today?

Quietly, he unplugged the bathtub. Before walking behind the other nation, he caught a glimpse of the water draining. It's all right, he assured himself. 'Lust will just go down the drain. I'll love Poland till the end of time, and that's what important.'

One side of the bathroom walls was entirely made of mirror. During the two nations' short walk between the bathtub and the shower, Lithuania noticed the reflection of their nakedness in it—their sacs jiggling with each step they took. Soon he was immersed in his own chagrin. Poland, on the other hand, seemed unbothered at all.

Poland stepped into the shower at the corner of the colossal bathroom, with Lithuania at his heel. The tepid water washed his wavy hair until it appeared straightly slick. However, as the blond turned around to reach for the soap, he noticed a gloom in his partner's expression.

"You okay?"

'No, I don't want us to part. I want you. At my side. Always.'

Lithuania nodded, and Poland gave him a smile of relief.

They washed each other's body for a while, their skin lathered with soap, until Poland brushed his fingers across Lithuania's back, tracing the large diagonal scar that Russia had given him and making the brunet stiffen.

"There are parts of you that I never knew. Sometimes, I'm worried … that you're going to a place I cannot reach … that you're gonna leave me."

Before Lithuania could tell Poland that he felt the same, the other nation had already sneaked behind him and started making a trail of little kisses along the scar that etched across his back. But, more than that, the brunet was not unaware of the swell of his lover's hardening flesh against his rear crevice.

The brunet gasped and instinctively placed both palms against the steamy glass wall of the shower cubicle. "Poland, didn't you say you were going to do me no more than once? We've just had sex; isn't it enough yet?"

"Of course it isn't. No matter how many times we do it, it'll never be enough. I love you. I can't get enough of you." The blond's hands held his partner's, weaving their fingers together.

Lithuania felt his heart beating faster, but his ardent lover showed no sign of stopping his woos. Poland whispered to his ear with a low, seductive voice, "Or am I the only one who wants a bond between us?"

"Wha—what are you saying?! Stop mentioning such embarrassing things. Besides, the world is dying. What's the point of asking?" Lithuania shifted, trying to conceal his blush as much as possible from his conceited partner. He half-expected Poland to pursue him, to tilt him by the chin and capture him by the lips, to embrace his waist, to grind their bodies together, or any skin contact really… And yet, for a while, Poland did nothing.

Then, with voice almost too quiet for his usual cheerful standard, he inquired, "Hey Liet, do you love me, like, more than other countries?"

"Of course." Lithuania turned his head to face Poland, genuinely incredulous at his lover's question; his feeling for the blond was more than a mere infatuation. It was an inextricable adoration, a worship. "What makes you think otherwise?"

"Well, you did fancy Belarus."

"She's my childhood crush, and it's a one-sided love at that. Although it's true that you aren't my first love and there's nothing I can do to change the past, I want nobody else but you to be my last romance."

Poland looked unconvinced. "What about Russia?"

"You knew so well that it was pure domination instead of love relationship."

"And America?"

There was a slight pause, a shred of hesitation, before Lithuania turned his full body to face Poland and answered, "He's a good friend of mine, just like North Italy to you."

"You sure you never slept with America? You lived in his house voluntarily."

Lithuania became momentarily quiet. When he spoke, his voice was small, yet heavy with guilt. "I did sleep with him. Once." The brunet took a deep breath. "After World War I, we were so busy reclaiming our respective independences that we had no time for each other. Moreover, my economic state became so poor; what else can I do but to seek employment in America's house? Even then, not a day passed without me thinking about you. Then, one day, when I missed you so much that it became unbearable, I took his offer to have a drink at the local bar.

Later on that night, in our drunken state, I couldn't remember what exactly America did to my body and how I responded to him. But I did recognize his voice calling 'England, England' repeatedly. Well, I didn't blame him, for it was you whom I had in mind at the same time. I woke up with a hangover, still wearing my shirt, even though my trousers were under America's bed. America was naked, but he pretended that that night never existed, and I'm fine with that. No, I was grateful for this decision. In fact, it was because of this reason that America and I maintain our friendship."

Poland's body was shaking, but no word expressed what was on his mind.

Hence, Lithuania continued, "I guess you're disappointed with me." He turned his back, intending to finish the shower and then to get as far away as possible from Poland.

Then Lithuania felt it—Poland's soft breathing at the side of his neck. Immediately behind his hairless legs were Poland's. Brushing against his scarred back was Poland's chest. Confining him to the glass wall were Poland's arms, trapping his torso between them.

"You have no idea how long I've been waiting for your confession, Liet." With that, Poland folded his forearms across his lover's chest in an affectionate embrace. "While you were gone, I was worried in case you'd lose interest in me. Every day, I waited for you to return, but even after that, you never proposed another alliance with me."

Tears welled up Lithuania's eyes. Poland didn't hate him. Feliks Łukasiewicz did not hate him. Breath quivering, Lithuania cried in his beloved's native tongue, "Kocham tylko Ciebie, na zawsze."

−"I love only you, forever."−

He thought he was going to burst; his pulse went wild from this unleashed confession. But his lover was with him. Their two hearts were beating as one.

"Now that you're here, in my arms, at last, won't you unite with me, Liet?"

'That's so unfair!'

How could Lithuania put a resistance now that he heard those words from his dear Poland's mouth? Deep down, he knew that his remonstration was not going to be any use anyway. As ever, his effort would be doomed to failure. It wasn't as if Poland would stop until he anointed Lithuania with his seed again. And he was going to let it happen. No, he wanted it to happen. His hips wiggled, anticipating Poland to impale him.

But apparently Poland had another plan. He snaked his hands, slick with soap, across his lover's sides. They slithered and slithered until they reached the brunet's midsection. Firmly and gently at the same time, Poland wrapped his fingers around Lithuania's member. Up and down his fist moved in a slow, steady motion that elicited shivers all over Lithuania's body. Poland's fingers, already coiled loosely around Lithuania's erection, tightened their grip, making a firm fist. His closed hand pumped up and down, drawing and shoving the skin back and forth upon his lover's stiff, swollen shaft. He continued to explore the length with merciless strokes, varying his speed and pressure as the other nation's arousal grew. The attended flesh stiffened all the more, swelling to yet-greater dimensions, laced with numerous throbs and twitches.

Lithuania groaned as his twin spheres ached inside his contracted pouch. His partner's fist pumped more rapidly, jerking him and driving the taut skin more forcefully up and down upon the straining, lurching shaft. He could see practically everything the other nation had done to his body, all events unfolded, in the wall of mirror on the left hand side of the shower cubicle. It heightened the sensation of surrendering into his partner's arms. More than anything, he wanted Poland to claim him, to take him, to possess him.

With the telltale signs of orgasm sweep through him, the brunet nation's toes curled against the slippery floor as his partner's adroit fingers paid special attention to his ultra-sensitive crown. Hence, when Poland reached the thin ridge that run vertically on the underside of Lithuania's length, however, the brunet grabbed him by each wrist.

The blond threw his lover a worried look, in case he might have hurt Lithuania by mistake.

"I don't want to come … not without you inside me," explained the brunet, gooseflesh erupting all across his skin due to the boldness of his own words.

Thus, Lithuania found Poland inside him once more, though not before the blond had teased the nerve-packed stretch of skin between his rear and front. At the new intrusion of his lover's flesh, he closed his eyes, eyebrows knitting and lips slightly apart. While spreading the cheeks of Lithuania's rear mounds, Poland whispered and, to Lithuania's ears, neither the cacophony of the running water nor the thickness of billowing steam all around them could overwhelm the softest timber of his partner's voice:

"Lietuva, you're the one thing I refuse to give up … even if the world ends tomorrow."

THE END