yaoi_rox_me_sox (yaoi_rox_me_sox) wrote,
yaoi_rox_me_sox
yaoi_rox_me_sox

Crass

Title: Crass
Characters/pairings: Austria, Netherlands, France; Netherlands/Austria
Rating: PG13-15-ish
Warnings: Clothing kink, dirty talk kink (albeit 1810 dirty talk), fade-to-black.
Summary: Written from a prompt by tiniestderp for Ned/Aus with a kink for fancy clothing and dirty talking.
“Well?” Austria blinked, realizing that Netherlands was staring down at him questioningly. The Austrian did his best to steel his expression, refusing to show an ounce of embarrassment from the thought of being caught eyeing the Dutchman’s clothing, let alone the man himself.

Historical notes after the fic



“I hadn’t expected to see you here.”

Austria turned his head to find Netherlands a couple feet behind him, his face mostly expressionless except for the brow quirked in bemusement. How such a tall man had slipped behind him without being noticed was question enough to make Austria flush the slightest bit. It seemed that having to be here was affecting him more than he cared to admit.

That or perhaps it was simply due to how France drew all attention to himself, good or bad, leaving little left for those around to notice when great lumbering giants stalked up behind you.

France, for his part, took it all in stride. “Ah, you came, just as I had hoped, Holland! I suppose you came to see the wedding between Austria’s and my royalties?” he crowed, gesturing for him to join their conversation – though, if Austria were honest, it was France talking his ear off about the wonders of being France. The distraction was a blessing.

“Only to see my siblings,” Netherlands countered, nevertheless moving to stand next to Austria. He and France continued to speak, but Austria found his mind wondering as soon as he was released from all of France’s attention.

What his mind wondered to was the man standing beside him.

Netherlands’ tall stature only appeared all the further heightened by his coat tailored to his body. He was not so broad as some nations – though broader than Austria, he noted with chagrin – but his double-pleated waistcoat fit snug to his body, and the tall and wide collar made him seem all the more present and intimidating. Netherlands breeches seemed to go on for miles on his long legs, again fitting so close to his skin that it may as well have been a second layer of it. Every curve and dip of his thighs seemed to be on display for anyone to appreciate.

And the tails on his waistcoat! They were the longest Austria had seen on any man. No doubt made for Netherlands’ stature – the length of the tails on Austria’s coat would make it look as if this man had stolen a child’s coat were the Dutchman to wear it – but it was still impressive.

“Well?” Austria blinked, realizing that Netherlands was staring down at him questioningly. The Austrian did his best to steel his expression, refusing to show an ounce of embarrassment from the thought of being caught eyeing the Dutchman’s clothing, let alone the man himself. Instead, Austria tilted his head just so.

“I apologize, I seem to have let my thoughts stray. Did you ask me something?”

The corners of Netherland’s mouth twitched, belying his amusement. “I believe I mentioned that your presence here was unexpected. Though the wedding itself is as well, I suppose. I wondered if you might give me an explanation as to why.”

Austria, for a moment, let his eyes turn to France; the man just grinned that maddeningly victorious grin of his. The Austrian looked back up at Netherlands.

A pause, and then with it came an answer.

“Well, that is a very interesting topic. Though perhaps, in exchange, you will tell me when and why you changed your name to Holland again. You do not seem to be able to hang onto your Netherlands name you so love,” Austria replied casually, ruling his facial expression to keep any satisfaction from showing. It was hard to not grin though when Netherlands’ enjoyment of his humiliation was overridden from his own humiliation at the hands of their host.

France, for his part, was laughing and having a ball.

“Now, now, messieurs!” France intervened, clapping a hand on each of their shoulders. “I don’t know about the sorts of parties your lot has, but I would rather not have anything more than playful teasing here.”

“It would hardly be acceptable behavior,” Austria agreed. Netherlands just gave the Frenchman a look the likes of which Austria hoped to never be the receiver. France, for his part, just brushed it off.

“Yes, well, I will have to trust that my new ally will keep a close eye on you while I’m gone to meet the other guests, hm?” France’s grip on Netherlands’ tightened, but it didn’t seem to affect the Dutchman at all.

“Don’t let me worry you. It’s that damned Bonaparte you should keep an eye on.”

“With you here, I suppose I do have to worry about that little brat of a king. Maybe I’ll finally talk some sense into him.”

“I meant Napoleon.”

Austria tried to step away from the two, but France’s hold on his shoulder kept him in place. Finally, after a heated moment of trying to glare one another down, France forced out a laugh and patted Netherlands on the shoulder. “Oh, you and your odd Dutch humor! I just do not believe I will ever understand it,” he said before releasing the two nations and stepping back. “Nevertheless, I must bid you both adieu for the moment.”

Austria nodded and watched the Frenchman all but prance away, immediately encroaching upon a group of finely dressed guests, charming them in mere seconds. With a sigh, Austria turned to face Netherlands, aware that if he wanted out of this awkward moment, he would have to do it properly.

“Well then, Netherlands, I shall not keep you occupied when you have your siblings to whom you must wish to attend,” Austria said. He was already regretting antagonizing perhaps the only guest at the party that he could possibly get along with, but what was done was done. The Austrian was willing to give them a reason to go their separate ways and ignore the small exchange of barbed chitchat.

And yet, the man didn’t move, and instead shook his head, replying, “They’re not here.”

“They are not here? You said that was the only reason you came.”

“It was. But when I got here I found out that they had turned down France’s invitation. It would seem my brother no longer attends these events, and my sister refuses as well to support him.” Austria smiled a bit. He hadn’t been particularly close to the two, even when they were under his watch, but whatever they did, it always seemed to be as a pair.

“May I ask why?”

Netherlands suddenly grinned fiercely with pride. “From what I hear, France brought up his opinions on the Dutch language, and how thankful his tenant should be that he is ridding them of it and teaching them French.”

No,” Austria replied, both appalled and unsurprised. France was always such a terrible mix of rudeness and arrogance dressed as humor and charm.

“Yes. You know what Lux did then?” Austria shook his head, assuming the normally timid nation would just withstand it. But surely not; considering the fact that Netherlands looked ready to burst with his suddenly jovial mood, it must have been something shocking and noteworthy.

Netherlands leaned down so that his face was closer to Austria’s, keeping his voice down so only he would hear. If the shorter man had been given the chance, he would have flushed at how handsome Netherlands’ face was even so close, framed by a fine linen cravat and richly colored collar. “Lux hit him.”

Austria, despite his years of proper behavior, found himself gapping. “No. Luxembourg?”

“Yes, Lux. Straight in the jaw too. When they dragged him out, it took three men. And all the while he was shouting in Dutch. Just when France thought it was over and called Lux a ruffian--”

“No, do not tell me that--”

“Yes. Bel gave him a matching bruise on the other side of his jaw.”

The moment that Austria had to muffle his snickering against his hand, imaging the scene described to him, he knew that the sharp exchange of retorts had been forgiven. While brash and often times without any mind for manners or politeness, Netherlands was the only man at the party he wished to converse with.

He was not family, but he was the closest to it that Austria had available.

-----------------------------------------------

When the two nations left the main hall to take a walk around the gardens, Netherlands took a deep breath and stretched his arms up over his head. Austria, despite his better intensions, couldn’t help noting the way the Dutchman’s coat lifted until he could see the back of the man’s breeches. It was silly, since there was nothing scandalous about that – a short waist coat would reveal all of the breeches – but somehow knowing he was likely the only one to see it that evening was enough to make him feel as if it were.

“Enjoying the view, Austria?” He was quick to lift his eyes back up to the Netherlands’ head, but all Austria found there was a knowing smirk. He clenched his jaw to keep from babbling from the flustered feeling bubbling in his chest and walked onto the path away from the house. Ignoring Netherlands’ smug look didn’t seem to be diminishing it at all.

“It is a nice enough garden I suppose,” Austria replied. Netherlands strolled next to him, although his strides were slow and few compared to the Austrian. It was easy to guess it was due to his longer legs, though Austria did not dare look to see for himself. He did not need to be caught looking again.

Netherlands snorted. “I don’t believe you were looking at the gardens when I asked.”

Bristling, Austria kept his gaze forward, refusing to look at the Dutchman. “What else would there be at which I would look?”

“Excuse me if it’s presumptuous of me to assume,” Netherlands started, the faux pompous attitude and way of speaking clearly indicating the fun he was having at Austria’s expense, “but I do believe you were looking at my legs.”

Austria choked back a sputter and bit the inside of his cheek as a wave of embarrassment washed over him. He could not help lifting a finger to pull at the cravat around his neck. “For whatever reason would I be looking at your legs?”

Netherlands hummed. “No need to act like that,” he replied, grinning as he glanced over at Austria. No doubt he was looking for a reaction, but Austria steeled himself for anything the other could say. “We’re nations after all. It’s not uncommon for us to look at the legs of men like we might a woman’s breasts--”

N-Netherlands,” Austria stammered, hating how his face was starting to flush. “I think that you… that you have been around France for far too long.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Well, I… Have you always been like this?”

“Yes,” Netherlands replied simply. “But before, you were Spain’s husband. Then the head of my siblings’ new house when you got them away from him.”

“So?”

“So I didn’t have this sort of interest in you before.”

The implications were enough to make Austria turn away completely, heading down a new path toward what appeared to be a hedge maze. The Dutchman’s blunt admissions were enough to have his head spinning. “Why must you be so crass?” he asked sternly, his coat whipping behind him. Within seconds, however, Netherlands caught up and even got ahead of Austria, walking backwards so that he could face him.

God forgive him, but did that cravat wrap around that neck so nicely, even as Austria wanted to simultaneously unclothe it and throttle it.

“Crass?” Netherlands repeated, showing no signs of even attempting to curb his smug amusement.

“Yes, crass!” Austria insisted. He was quickly hiding his shame under a façade of anger. “Immediately you think of such improper things and just say whatever you want about it!”

“What else then?”

Austria stopped, and almost hoped that Netherlands would run back-first into the hedge. He didn’t. “What do you mean?”

Netherlands had a knowing glint in his eye. For a moment, Austria felt as if he had already fallen into a trap that he could not escape. With a man intent on bringing him nothing but embarrassment through blunt words and fine clothing, Austria wondered if there was ever a time when he would have been able to avoid it.

“Austria, why else would you look at me that way?”

“A great number of reasons,” Austria assured him. “Perhaps I was admiring your clothing.”

Netherlands paused and glanced down at himself, going so far as to run his hands down the front of his coat. “Admiring my clothing? But yours are just as nice, and France’s are much dandier than mine.”

“Well… you wear them well,” was Austria’s reasoning, and that in and of itself was no lie. The Dutchman indeed wore his clothing well, and his clothing in turn fit him beautifully. There wasn’t a single part of the outfit that didn’t nicely flatter him. Even his Hessian boots looked perfect on him.

No man should have looked that good in clothing, but this man did, so surely Austria could not be blamed for looking.

It was easier to lie to Netherlands if Austria was already lying to himself.

However, Netherlands just stood there giving him a bemused look. “Wear them well, hm?” he repeated, seeming to ponder over the response. “But tell me. If I wear them well, what is it you’re focusing on? Me, or the clothing?”

“Both,” Austria replied. “As I said, you are wearing them, and you wear them well.”

“That is not what I mean,” Netherlands interrupted, and again -- Oh, that sly smile of his. It meant nothing but trouble. He moved one foot forward, gesturing at his boots. “Tell me, Austria, when you look at my boots, do you see the fine leather, or do you see how good that fine leather makes my feet look?”

“This is ridiculous--”

“Answer the question.”

Austria sighed, not sure where this conversation was going but glad for a moment to collect his thoughts. “I see that they are fine Hessian boots. I care not for your feet.”

Netherlands nodded and returned his foot to stand next to the other. “Then what of my hair? Do you see nicely styled hair on my head and along the sides of my face, or do you see stylish hair that frames my handsome face?”

A harder question – enough to give Austria pause – before he answered, “The point of stylish hair is to frame a face. So while I see hair styled expertly with hair wax, I also see how it frames your face and brings out your better features.”

There was a grin in response to that. “So you’ve looked at my face because it is handsome?”

Austria glanced to one side and removed a handkerchief, moving as if to clean a smug from his glasses. “Netherlands, you have yet to make a point.”

“We’re getting there,” Netherlands assured him. “My shirt tied like a cravat around my neck; do you see a finely knotted cravat, or…” – Netherlands hand reached up, pulling at the fabric, as if threatening to undo it – “do you see a neck wrapped up in stuff you would like to remove?”

Austria flushed and felt his stomach clench while his mind flooded with the image given to him. He had not allowed himself to consider it for that long or seriously, but now all he could see was the way the linen fit around the contours of Netherlands’s neck, hiding skin that could be touched if the cravat were removed.

“Well, Austria?” Netherlands chuckled, and one look told Austria that the Dutchman knew he had him now. Still, shame filled him and urged him to refute the claim.

“I… I believe you knotted it well…”

“And my coat?” That hand – that damned hand – moved to lay on the fine fabric of his waistcoat. “Tell me, Austria. Do you see a fine coat, or do you see fabric fitted snugly across my chest and down my arms?” Austria did not even attempt a response, but instead swallowed hard as his mouth grew dry and he blushed a deep red. He was jittering, glancing away as if to escape but always, his eyes were drawn back.

Austria knew that he was playing into the Dutchman’s taunting. He wondered if there was any real interest in him, or if Netherlands merely enjoyed watching him squirm and sweat.

Either way, Austria was feeling the effects low in his gut.

“Netherlands, th-this… this is not… Just stop!”

“But you aren’t even answering my questions anymore,” Netherlands pointed out, moving to step closer. “And I hadn’t gotten to the part that caught your eye. Surely, we can’t stop before we discuss my breeches.”

Netherlands,” Austria groaned in a way that was meant to be exasperated, but came out quite differently. He clasped a hand to his mouth, shocked at his own voice -- and that he felt another coming when he noticed the flicker of something across Netherlands’ face only filled him with more scalding shame.

While up until that point nothing had changed about Netherlands, even as he spoke so brashly, he was changing now. Even in the dark, Austria noticed the other’s eyes dilating and his grin take on an entirely new characteristic.

“I like that answer.” Netherlands took one more step forward, leaving a foot at most between them. “Come now, Austria, tell me again. Why do you look at my breeches? Is it because of the fine fabric and stitching? Or is it because of how that fabric clings to my legs and hips, leaving little of it to the imagination?”

Austria shuddered and kept his hand pressed against his mouth, warding off anymore unwanted vocalizations. All he could hope was that Netherlands would not look at him now like the Austrian had looked at him earlier. There was an answer to the Dutchman’s question that needed no words to explain its desires.

Shame filled Austria from head to toe, and it was deliriously arousing in all the wrong ways.

Netherlands didn’t look, but rather dipped his head down to whisper in Austria’s ear. “Tell me. Are you looking at how the clothing is filled and fitted properly, or are you looking at how my body must look under these clothes? Are you imagining what I would look like without any of it on?”

“Stop.” It was weak and shaky and it was all that Austria could manage at that moment, just wanting to gather his thoughts. When words came, they felt as if they weren’t really his, but ones read from a book. “You’re… Netherlands, you’re too crass, too…”

Netherlands’ looming presence was gone within seconds. The Dutchman stood up straight and even took a few steps back. There was no mistaking the way he looked Austria up and down, no hiding what was in plain sight, and finally, there was no more teasing when Netherlands spoke again. “Austria, if you follow me into that maze, I will have sex with you.”

Austria felt his heart stop.

“If you don’t wish to do that, you’re welcome to return to the party, and I shall take care of myself before joining you again.”

Austria’s head was spinning. Blood pounded in his ears before heading down to pool in his groin. Of all the things to do – after all his crude and blunt words that dragged his moral upstanding down into the dirt and pulled out something so dirty and raw – Netherlands would leave that question up to him, let him have control of what they would do, knowing that he had no current lover, was in desperate need, and had such deep lust for what that beautiful clothing was hiding from him—

Netherlands was already turning away, headed towards the entrance to the hedge maze, and Austria suddenly felt alone without those fine clothes close enough to touch and crass words in his ears.

Austria swallowed hard, accepted his shame, and started off after the Dutchman, slipping into the maze soon after.

He hated to admit it, even to himself, but Austria was dying to know the body that wore those clothes so perfectly.

-----------------------------

“And where, Holland, did you take one of our guests of honor?”France asked – more like demanded really – when the Dutchman was caught standing in the corner of one of the ballrooms. The Frenchman was fuming, and really, it only made Netherlands smirk.

“What makes you think I took him?”

France glowered at him darkly, replying, “Everyone knows that the two of you were all but connected at the hip after I left to attend to the other guests. It is fine if you entertained him in my absence; but before I know what has occurred, the both of you are gone.”

“We went to look at the gardens.”

“The gardens?” France repeated. Netherlands nodded, but he knew that France was no fool, and he no good at hiding his amusement. The Frenchman reached out and grabbed Netherlands’ cravat, all the while staring at him. “And I suppose you’ll tell me you were gone so long because you got lost, hm?”

“The hedge maze can take a while to enjoy,” Netherlands said, paying no heed to the grip on his clothing. Instead, he pulled a cigarette from inside his waist coat and went about lighting it.

France looked almost livid now.

“Holland. I know a man who has engaged in carnal pleasures when I see one, and you did more than just enjoy your time in that hedge maze.”

There was a pause as the cigarette was clamped between lips and teeth; Netherlands took his time to light it. After a few puffs it rolled to one corner of his mouth while the other curled with cruel smugness. “Did I steal what you had hoped would be your midnight snack, France?”

“He was my guest, and his princess married my Bonaparte today, and you have to play the pervert dressed as a gentleman, luring not just any unsuspecting victim into your games, but one of the most important guests,” France spat. Netherlands quirked a brow at him, removing the cigarette from his lips and letting the smoke roll out past his tongue.

“I’m not you, France. I don’t plan for sexual ends. It just so happened that Austria likes the way I tease him more than I had expected.” With that, he took a long, slow drag. When he continued, puffs of smoke escaped with every word. “What was fun for me led to a surprising end that we both enjoyed.”

France snorted in disbelief. “You would have me believe that Austria willingly engaged in such behavior with you in my hedge maze?”

Netherlands loved how infuriated France looked when he grinned. “I have marks all over my thighs that speak to how eager he was.”

When France bristled, it was hard to keep from laughing; to think that all Netherlands had done was enjoy some good teasing, and it had led to such a pleasurable chain of events. France’s plans for the whole event were crumbling before him all because Netherlands had stolen his prized guest away. It was perfect, even if it hadn’t been planned. “Holland, where is Austria now?”

“Gone to his room in the guest house. His breeches met an unfortunate fate, so he went to change.”

“I want you gone by the time he returns, is that understood?”

Netherlands blinked, and only leaned more heavily against the wall, daring the other nation to make him.

“You know, even if I’m gone, he still won’t sleep with you anymore.”

“That is not why I am--”

“Yes, I’m sure that you also want to introduce him to your generals and their ladies and whatnot, but you can make up for lost time. We both know you’re one of the best when it comes to these sorts of extravagant events. What you can’t make up for is that he has been satisfied for this evening.”

“You don’t know that. I have the advantage of the situation,” France stated, gesturing towards the large event around them. “His princess married my Bonaparte. Tonight is their wedding night, and I have plans on having my own fun tonight, even if you have already--”

“He would be too embarrassed by the marks I left on him. Austria’s hardly the type to be with someone when he still has evidence left over from another.” Netherlands sucked heavily off his cigarette before blowing the smoke in France’s face. “Your plans are ruined, and you are fully aware of it.”

“Leave, Holland.” Netherlands didn’t move an inch, simply smoking away and paying France no mind. The Frenchman was fuming, and every moment of it amused Netherlands. “Holland. I am asking you to leave.” Still, nothing. France grabbed him by the collar, hissing, “Holland--”

“My name is Netherlands,” the man interrupted, grasping France’s wrist tightly. “I don’t give a damn about what you and your Bonapartes say.”

It is highly possible that the moment could have escalated into something violent, but it was then that Austria coughed into his hand from where he stood some feet away. France snapped his attention to him, and the way his expression changed completely made Netherlands sick. The Frenchman was nothing but dishonest.

“Ah, Austria, we have missed you!” France cooed, releasing Netherlands and moving to greet the other nation. The Dutchman returned to his smoking. “I am afraid that Holland was just about to leave, but I will be more than happy to keep you company for the rest of the evening.”

Austria blanched and Netherlands couldn’t help but grin victoriously. There was no way in heaven or hell that France was getting him into his bed.

“You are leaving so early?” Austria asked, politely avoiding France’s offer. Netherlands glanced at France, and then nodded.

“Suppose so. I can’t stand all this gaudiness,” he replied, pushing off the wall. However, Netherlands then walked up to Austria and held out his hand. “It’s too late to get a carriage back to my house. I’ll stay with you tonight.”

Austria flushed and France bristled; Netherlands couldn’t fight back a grin when faced with both those wonderful results. France, of course, assured him that wasn’t necessary, that they had very good carriages, that there were spare bedrooms – but nevertheless, Austria slipped his hand into his coat and pulled out the key to his room.

“Consider it thanks for your company, Netherlands,” Austria said as he placed the key in the Dutchman’s hand. “I will likely be joining you soon.”

Netherlands grinned as he pocketed the key. “Well then, who’s being crass now?”

Before Austria could say anything more, Netherlands was off and heading towards the grand doors that would lead to the outside. It would be easy enough to find the guest house and inquire about Austria’s sleeping arrangements.

His coattails whipped behind him, and it was enough to make the Netherlands smile around his cigarette.

Austria was no doubt looking, and he didn’t mind in the least.

---------------------------------

History notes:

--During the time that Klemens von Metternich was the Austrian foreign minister, it was after a lot of strife between Austria and France, and the minister had a pro-French policy to try to better relations. This particular fic is set during this time.

--It must also be noted that this is during Napoleon Bonaparte’s feign in France, but before where the war across Europe turned on him. At this time, Belgium and Luxembourg were part of the French Empire while Netherlands was ruled by Napoleon’s younger brother as the Kingdom of Holland.

--Louise Bonaparte, Napoleon’s younger brother, was supposed to keep the Kingdom of Holland as a part of French use. However, as King, he learned about the country and put the Dutch people before the French. Eventually things went downhill from there, but that isn’t important for the story.

--In Belgium and Luxembourg, France conscripted men to join the army, which prompted a revolt from Luxembourg and the Flemish in Belgium. Along with that, France banned Dutch as a language and pushed for the populations to speak only French, among other things. Needless to say, that didn’t help the situation.

--On March 11th,1810, Marie Louise of Austria married Napoleon. Needless to say that the wedding is the date of this fic. As mentioned, this is the time after years of war where Austria’s foreign minister is trying to patch things up with the French. I imagine though that after that history, as a man, Austria may still hold something against France.

Links from which the above information was taken:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/History_of_Austria#The_Era_of_the_French_Revolution_and_Napoleon_.281792.E2.80.931814.29
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marie_Louise_of_Austria
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kingdom_of_Holland
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Louis_Bonaparte
Tags: austria, fanfiction, hetalia, netherlands
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