Prove Me Wrong (Rusame)

Top Poland is Best Poland (Smut)

*Smut Warning*

For 16-18+-year-olds, please. Kiddos, look away.

Narrator's POV

Poland opened his bedroom door and lead Germany inside. He shut the door and smiled when he turned around to see Germany sitting on the edge of the bed. The poor boy was already blushing furiously, Poland noted, nervous no doubt. It was adorable. His hands were neatly folded across his lap, his posture straight like he was at a formal event. Not at his boyfriends house.

"We don't have to if you don't want to." Poland walked over to him, setting his hands on Germany's tense shoulders.

He looked up at his lover and excitedly exclaimed, "Nein, I vant to!" As soon as he did so, he looked down in embarrassment from his eagerness. He quickly redid his sentence in a calmer voice, "I mean, I-I'd like to."

Poland smirked, finding that small outburst cute.

"Good." He hummed, sliding his hands down Germany's side. Germany relaxed at his touch, letting out a long sigh. He was always so worried about everything, and Poland had the ability to ease that down significantly.

Germany wrapped his arms around Poland's neck, bringing him in close for a kiss. They connected their lips, Poland letting Germany lead for this small bit. He lightly bit his bottom lip, and Poland complied with opening his mouth. He slipped his tongue inside, exploring the wet crevice.

Poland slowly pushed himself against Germany, lowering him onto the bed. Their tongues danced together, and when Poland pulled away, a thin trail of saliva connected their mouths. Germany panted slightly, cheeks warmed from the heated kiss.

They moved up further onto the bed, where Poland climbed onto it and hovered over his boyfriend. Germany laid below him, heart racing, completely submissive to the polish country above him. He wanted nothing but his touch right now.

Now that they were in a warmer, and honestly more comfortable, place, Poland figured it would be okay to lose more clothing. He set himself down on top of Germany, sitting upright, and began to undo his tie. He knew tying ties was hard, but getting them off was relatively easy. And once it was undone, he tossed it onto the pillow next to them and worked on unbuttoning his shirt.

Germany felt his breathing increase as he helped take off his shirt. He looked away, towards the wall when Poland ran his hands over his bare chest. On it, he knew he had scars that where very obvious and hard to miss. It was from the past, when the fighting and horror of war affected him, too.

But Poland didn't say anything. Instead, he took off his thin sweater and his shirt to reveal more scars around his body, too. But their numbers greatly contrasted the amount Germany had. And he needn't ask where they came from. He knew, knew all about it. Germany ran his hand over one that went across his entire chest, knowing that it must've hurt so much then. A twinge of guilt hit his stomach and he frowned sorrowfully at the sight.

Poland noticed it and decided it would be best if he didn't show Germany his back right then and there. Or else he'd feel so much worse. So, instead, Poland set his hand on Germany's cheek and tilted his head to look up at him.

"We are all wounded from the past, which means, we are all capable in helping each other heal." He caressed his face and his lover shut his eyes, rubbing against his comforting hold. "I can help you heal, as much as you can help me."

Poland connected their lips again, softly pecking them until he felt that worried frown leave. Then he moved down to his neck, leaving small butterfly kisses along the way. Germany lifted his head, giving Poland more access.