Author: Julchen Francine Carriedo PM
Ivan was so close to death yet he was saved, saved by a stoic man he'd soon fall for. M for Yaoi.Rated: Fiction M - English - Sweden & Russia - Words: 1,657 - Reviews: 1 - Favs: 6 - Published: 05-22-12 - Status: Complete - id: 8142144
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Pairings - SuRus, Mentioned SuFin
Human names used
The darkness of the winter blinded the Russian. Ivan was lost in a country he had no idea what it was named. One thing was for sure, it's winters were almost as bad as Russian winters.
"Help!" He called in the darkness, his voice waning. The cold penetrated his overcoat, chilling him. "Someone! Anyone!" He screamed weakly. He crumpled into the snow, shivering.
"This is my end, I know it is." He thought, unconsciousness threatening to overtake him. He glanced up, seeing the faint light of a lantern. He gathered up the last of his energy to call for help.
Berwald had walked on this road many times, this cry of help was new to him. He turned just in time to see a head fall into the snow. He ran over as quickly as possible to see it was a man. He knew that Swedish winters could take lives, he'd seen it happen before. He picked up the man, noting how light he was. Had the blizzard sapped most of his energy? Sensing the danger, he ran with the knowledge that unless he acted quickly, the stranger would freeze to his death.
Ivan groaned, unsure where he was. It was warm, the scent of baking bread fulled his nose. His eyes fluttered open, his sight met the dark wood of a roof. He slowly sat up, seeing he was in a cabin of sorts.
"You are awake." A voice, thick with an unknown accent, spoke. Ivan's head turned, seeing a stranger sitting across from him. He pointed to a plate of bread sitting on the table in front of him. "You should eat."
"Where is my coat and scarf?" Ivan demanded. The Swede glanced to the wall, where they hung. "Who are you then?" Ivan asked.
"Ivan. Where am I?"
"A few miles away from the nearest town. I would not recommend going out. The road's out." With that, he stood and went off to another room in the cabin. Ivan laid down, falling back asleep.
Aside from their introduction, Berwald spoke little more since. Ivan was confused why as he tried to get the stoic Swede to speak. He gained little more then yes or no, which irritated the Russian to no end. In the meantime, he took to exploring. One day, he stumbled upon an old scrapbook. He was just about to open it when Berwald's hand slammed onto the cover.
"Why?" Ivan asked defiantly. The Swede looked down at the book, a sad look on his face. He took the book out of Ivan's hands.
"Just don't." His voice was firm but also a bit protective. A bit scared. A bit...lonely.
"I won't take 'just don't' for an answer Berwald. I know you're hiding something." Berwald glared at his gust, wondering how anybody could stand him.
"My wife." He finally spoke, daring not to look at the Russian.
"Your wife?" Ivan asked, placing a hand on Berwald's shoulder.
"Ja, my wife." He seemed to be in pain from speaking the words.
"Tell me more, da?" Ivan asked. Berwald shook his head.
"Nej. I do not wish to speak about him."
"Him?" Berwald froze, realizing he said too much. "Now you really intrigue me Berwald." The Russian cooed. Berwald looked away, trying to avoid the Russian's gaze. "You do realize that keeping it holes up will hurt you even more?"
"Fine, I'll tell." Berwald grumbled.
"Yay~!" Ivan giggled and sat on the floor, like a child waiting to be told a story by his father. Berwald sat down in front of him, opening the scrapbook.
"I remember the day we met as if it was yesterday. Mathias, Lukas, and Email brought me to a party hosted by some wealthy man for the Finnish army. I kept to myself most of the time...until I met him. Tino Vainamoinen. Everything I had thought before vanished. I had fallen helplessly in love with him...however it was for naught. Even though he loved me in return, our love was forbidden by society. Tino was a solider for the Finnish Army. I knew that promises to return normally would never come true yet I allowed him to make that promise. He never came back." Berwald failed to realize he was crying. Ivan leaned close to the Swede.
"You're crying. Was Tino very important to you?" He asked, moving his thumb to wipe away the tears. Berwald nodded noiselessly. "I know how it hurts to loose someone you love so much." Ivan murmured. "When my sisters were taken away, I was grief stricken for months. Even now, it hurts because they're so distant. I miss them terribly. It seems we are no strangers to grief." The two were still for a few minutes, not daring to speak. Ivan moved away, a gentle genuine smile on his face. He left the room, leaving the Swede to bittersweet memories.
"Hm, it's oddly calm tonight." Berwald murmured, noting the unusual silence outside. In the distance was the sound of thunder, hinting at an upcoming storm. He was on his bed, staring at the ceiling and mulling over what Ivan had said. He failed to notice his guest was right next to him until he felt a pair of arms wrap around his chest. He glanced to the light violet eyes of his guest. He choose not to ask, seeing a different emotion in the Russian's eyes. Was it fear? Love? Admiration? He wasn't sure. Suddenly, he felt a pair of lips latch onto a sensitive spot on his neck. He gave a harsh gasp of surprise.
"S-stop!" He demanded. Ivan pulled away.
"Why?" The Swede could not give an answer. "It's about Tino isn't it? He's dead now, you said so yourself. Loving him after his death will not bring him back. Eventually, you'll have to move on." Even though Ivan spoke the truth, Berwald didn't want to believe it. However, it was a truth that had to be accepted.
"Ja...you are right." Ivan giggled and latched back onto the others neck.
"I knew he'd see things my way!" Ivan thought happily, squeezing Berwald's hand. He couldn't get enough of the taste and feel of the Swede's skin, it reminded him of his Russian homeland. It was the scent, however, that drove Ivan onward: The scent of a pine forest just after a snowfall. So pure, so sweet, so addictive.
He wanted more.
Berwald took Ivan's shoulders and pushed him back. Ivan was surprised before Berwald's lips crashed onto Ivan's. He was surprised at this show of passion, this show of almost animal-like love.
Guess who's topping tonight.
Ivan tasted of bitter vodka. Berwald wasn't the one for alcohol but, in this case, it made Ivan all the more irresistible. The need to breath separated the two but Berwald went downward, pulling off Ivan's nightshirt. Suddenly, Ivan felt insecure about his scarred chest, hiding it from Berwald.
"Do not hide from me." Berwald whispered huskily.
"Not buts Ivan." Berwald forced Ivan to look at him. Dark intimidating blue eyes stared into the now terrified light violet. Slowly, Ivan allowed Berwald to see his scarred chest. He was no stranger to humiliation but this...this man was making him act like a child! How was this possible? Ivan gasped as Berwald began to suckle at one of his nipples, his hand stroking the hardening member through his pajama pants.
"Berwald!" He gasped when the hand slipped into his pajama pants. Berwald grinned, a soft almost undetectable grin, as he was pleased with the reaction from Ivan. He separated himself from the nipple and tore Ivan's pajama pants and boxers off. He quickly took the member into his own mouth, causing Ivan to gasp and mewl. Eventually, with a strangled groan, he came. His seed shot straight into Berwald's mouth, tasting surprisingly sweet. Berwald moved back, swallowing all of the white substance. Berwald stripped in front of Ivan and sat down on the bed. It was a nonverbal command but Ivan knew. He took the Swede's erect member into his own mouth.
"Good, Good Ivan." Berwald whispered, encouraging Ivan on. He felt Ivan's wet muscle lick his member as he suckled. He felt himself getting close, so he pushed Ivan's head down. Ivan gave a startled cry at the attempt to deep-throat the member, silenced by the coming of Berwald. Ivan carefully lapped up the seed, trying his hardest not to let it fall to the sheets. Berwald turned Ivan onto his stomach rapidly, leaving Ivan quite vulnerable. Berwald thrust in without care, causing Ivan to cry out in surprise. When Berwald hit that special spot, Ivan saw white.
"Scream my name." Berwald whispered.
"BERWALD!" Ivan screamed as he felt warmth spread into his bowels. It wasn't a pleasant feeling but it wasn't all too repulsive either. Ivan collapsed onto the sheets as Berwald pulled out of Ivan. Ivan faded out of consciousness just moments after he heard three delicate words.
"I love you."
A few weeks later...
"I must go Berwald, I'll be missed."
"Will we see each other again?" Ivan paused, thinking about it.
"I do not know. I hope so."
"As do I." He took out a pin in the shape of a small flower. "Take this, remember me when you see it."
"Da, I will!" Ivan took the pin and pocketed it. He turned and left the cabin, leaving the saddened Swede behind. Berwald took a look at the sunflower in a small vase on his table, Ivan's last gift.
"I hope so."