The next world meeting would be held in Canada. Matthew could hardly believe it!
A month ago, at the end of the last world meeting in Sweden, Canada had meekly put his hand into the air. No one had noticed at first, but Russia, who was sitting next to him, had loudly cleared his throat. All the chattering in the room ceased and all the nations looked to Russia. They assumed he had something to say.. but Ivan said nothing. He motioned to the blond sitting beside him, still with his hand patiently waiting in the air.
"The floor recognizes... Canada." Sweden said, after reading the nameplate in front of the little blond. He thought the nation looked very familiar.. sort of like America, but with softer features and a slighter build. The hair was longer and a different shade, the eyes a dark, violet blue. In his lap sat a little white bear. Sweden supposed the nation had been sitting there with Russia all along, but he couldn't quite remember if he'd noticed him. He vaugely remembered some commotion a year previous having involved the Russian and another nation.. but the details escaped him.
"Thank you.." Canada whispered, then sat nervously as all the world's attention was suddenly focused on him. He clutched his polar bear tightly to his chest and started to tremble. His lips had sealed themselves shut. He swallowed back a lump of nerves that had formed in his throat. Everyone was staring! Everyone was waiting for him to speak.. and a moment ago he'd been completely ready and prepared to bring up his suggestion.. but now all the words had emptied themselves out of his head. All he could do was stare straight ahead, blankly. He wished he was invisible again.
The large nation seated next to him nudged him gently in the side. He glanced sideways at Russia, his eyes wide. Ivan took his hand and gave it an encouraging squeeze. Those violet eyes were gentle, always gentle, when gazing back at him. Ivan's face was lit with that familiar, comforting smile. Perhaps other nations found the smile a little creepy, but Matthew knew better.
Canada took a deep breath and felt himself drawing in strength from the man he loved. He pushed himself to his feet. He hugged Kumajiro and closed his eyes.
"I.. I want to s-suggest t-that.. w-we hold t-the n-next world c-conference in.. Toronto. It's my b-biggest city."
All the nations stared at him and Matthew felt his cheeks flushing dark. He wondered if they would start to laugh. He wondered if they would ask him who he was, again, for the thousandth time. 'Where is Toronto?' they would ask, and when he would tell them it was in Ontario, Canada, they would all have a good chuckle and tell him no, they wanted to have the conference in a REAL city.
He heard Russia getting to his feet. A large hand closed over his shoulder in support and Ivan towered over him, eyeing the rest of the nations with a steely, violet gaze.
"I second the motion."
Murmured whispers began filling in the gaps of silence that had fallen over the nations. Eyes were going from Russia to Canada and back to each other again. Matthew could hear a little bit of what was being said from the nations sitting closest to him.
'You know.. the nation that tamed Russia.'
'Oh! That was Canada? Wow, who'd have thought?'
Matthew felt his face growing an even darker shade of red. Only Ivan's steady hand on his shoulder kept him standing.. instead of crawling beneath the table to hide.
Eventually, Sweden called for the whispering to stop. He cleared his throat.
"All in favour of the next conference being held in Canada's Toronto?"
The nations glanced around at each other, still unsure, waiting to see who would vote first. America raised his hand in the air.
Matthew's face broke into a grin. He nodded as his brother winked at him. He smiled up at Ivan, pleased, but the Russian was now staring daggers at Alfred.
"Aye." Japan piped in, his hand raised. He was staring at the American as well, his brow very slightly furrowed.
'Aye's began to roll in from around the large room. They couldn't see why a conference could not be held in Canada. Especially if America was in support of it. And Russia. It was so rare that the two nations agreed on anything.
Matthew beamed as not a single 'nay' came from his fellow nations. All his nervousness had melted away and he felt like dancing. He snuggled little Kuma's fur and sat back down as Sweden called out the itinerary, dates and time of the next meeting.
Later that evening Alfred was heading back to his hotel room. He was tired and felt a little bloated and drunk from having consumed too much food and alcohol. He'd gone to dinner with Japan, England, France, Russia and his little brother, Canada. Sweden had good food. Not like the food he had back at home, but good enough to have had at least three plates full. Then dessert. Then beer. Lots of beer.
The conversation had been mainly focused on the upcoming Winter Olympics in Sochi. Everyone had bragged about their teams and Olympians. They talked about the different events and about all the planning and work that still needed to be done.
Alfred thought the Russian looked rather tired, and he supposed it made sense if he was. Ivan had been working like mad to prepare his country for the oncoming Olympics. The long hours needed and stress involved in orchestrating such a huge event was astronomical, Alfred knew. He'd done it before.
'Good,' the American huffed to himself as he stumbled into the elevator of the hotel, 'let the commie bastard feel a bit of pressure. Especially in these last few months before the Olympics. Maybe then he'll stop sending me hate mail'.
The elevator door closed and Alfred leaned his forehead against the wall. He gazed at his expression in the mirror that covered the back of the elevator. He was feeling a bit of pressure too. The past year had been really stressful for him. Ever since Canada had formed an alliance with Russia.. America felt the strain. And the loss.
His brotherly relationship with Matthew was still there. The little blond still came to see him almost as frequently as he had before.. and perhaps his own trips to Canada had even increased over the past year. The trade between America and Canada had not stopped. Relations between their two bosses were good. There were only two major differences in America's doings with Canada. One, Matthew no longer sought him out for physical attention, and two.. Russia was always watching.
And sending hate mail.
Alfred didn't even bother opening any letters with 'Russia' on the address anymore. Ivan sent him all sorts of nasty letters describing all sorts of terrible ways that he would suffer if he overstepped his boundary and laid a hand on Matthew. The Russian was a jealous lover and made sure to remind the American daily that the little Canadian belonged to him. Even when preparations began for the Winter Olympics and Ivan was extremely busy he always found the time to send threats through the mail.
He hated the Russian now more than he ever did before. But for his brothers sake and happiness, he kept quiet.
He'd never seen Canada so happy as he was with Russia. America didn't understand it at all. Why choose to be with the man who'd kidnapped you, abused you, and almost started a war? It took him a long while, but eventually he'd gotten the entire truth out of his little brother. Matthew told him everything that happened during his time in captivity. The near starvation, the months spent almost completely isolated, the beatings.. It all made Alfred want to arm as many warplanes as he could and fly to Russia to drop hundreds of bombs right into Ivan's lap.. but Matthew wouldn't allow it. He loved Ivan, he claimed. Ivan was sorry for what he'd done. Ivan had changed. Ivan was gentle and careful with him now. Ivan loved him back.
Ivan, Ivan, Ivan, Ivan.
It all made America's head hurt. He supposed Matthew was still a little brainwashed from his experience. He counted on the day the little Canadian would come around and listen to him. There was a reason the Russian sent him all that hate mail. He did everything he could to convince his brother that his alliance with Russia was a bad idea.
Alfred realized he'd forgotten to push the button to his floor. He pulled himself away from the wall and gazed at the button panel. He blinked slowly. What floor was he on again? He couldn't remember. He couldn't think straight.
Maybe floor 18? Yeah, that sounded about right. He punched the button and leaned his head back against the wall. A few minutes passed and 'ding' went the elevator. The doors opened and he stumbled out onto the cushy, plush carpet of the hallway. He almost knocked a vase of flowers over as he made his way past multiple doors with golden numbers on them. 1801, 1802, 1803.. which room was his?
"1804.. oh yeah.." America stopped in front of the door and tried to shove his hand into his jacket pocket in search of his keycard. He kept missing, his hand fumbling around awkwardly. Eventually he gave up and decided that it would be ok to pass out right there in the hallway. The hotel staff would find him eventually and drag him into his room. He fell forward and his face went 'smuck' into the door. Quite unexpectedly the door opened and the American was sent sprawling onto the floor inside the room.
"Ow.." he groaned. That had hurt. Alfred pushed himself to his knees. The fall had sobered him up a bit and he rubbed his forehead. He glanced back at the open door, confused. He'd forgotten to lock his hotel room? That wasn't like him. He was all about security and forever watching his back. To forget and leave his room unlocked was so strange that it left him baffled.
'I must be under more stress than I thought..'
Alfred stood and closed the door, locking it. He went to wash his face in the little bathroom, wanting to wake up a bit more. He figured he could get some work finished before laying down to sleep. His boss would want to know how the meeting went. If he typed up his report now, he could sleep in tomorrow morning.
He splashed his face with cold water, then toweled himself dry. He walked back into the main part of his hotel room and.. stopped short. There was a suitcase sitting on the bed that didn't belong to him. It had a maple leaf sewn carefully to it's front.
This was Canada's room! Alfred was in Canada's room! Now he remembered that his own room was located down the hall to where Matthew was staying. The room number 1804 had stuck out so much in his mind because he'd badgered the little Canadian into telling him which hotel and which room he planned to stay in while they were in Sweden. The American had booked his own room as close by as he possibly could.
It was just like the little blond to leave his door unlocked. Silly Matthew, thinking the world was as safe a place to be in as his own nation. Not expecting that anyone would just stumble into his room and.. and.. hide in his closet!
Voices coming down the hall! There was no time to exit the room without being seen! Alfred hurried to the hotel room closet. He dashed inside and hid, closing the door behind him just in time. The door was unlocked and Canada walked into the room with Ivan following behind him. Alfred could see them both through the slim crack in the door. They were laughing, in the midst of some funny conversation that had been carried away with them from the evening dinner table. Matthew's tie was loose around his neck and his jacket was open. Ivan's jacket hung open as well and his gloves were off, stuffed into a pocket somewhere.
"And then Japan asked me if it was true that Canadians all had sex in canoes!" Matthew giggled, loosening his tie further. He slipped it from his head and tossed it into his suitcase.
"Mmm.. would be awkward." Ivan chuckled.
"I mean seriously, how can that even be considered erotic?" Matthew laughed, then pulled the ribbon that was holding his hair back. "I appreciate the sudden interest that everyone is taking in me.. but the stereotype is ridiculous."
Alfred watched as his little brother's hair tumbled around his neck. Matthew had let it grow even longer than normal. It touched his shoulders when left down, and curled in messy waves. He kept it tied behind his head with a little piece of red ribbon. At first Alfred thought the little Canadian was mimicking his Papa France, but he soon came to realize that the hairstyle was most likely favoured by the Russian. Evidence of this came from the way Ivan buried his hands in the little blond's hair, pulling him close.
"If we speak of sterotypes, Japan is bringing tentacles to his bed." the Russian grinned, and Matthew was pitched into another fit of giggles. Alfred could see the touch of red that lit his cheeks. The little Canadian was tipsy.. most likely fed on Ivan's vodka. Hmph.
The American began to feel a little awkward when the Russian started to kiss his brother. Scratch that. He felt alot awkward. He was sitting in a closet for crying out loud! Listening to the wet, sucking sounds of a kiss that was gradually becoming more heated. He was watching as the larger man undid his brother's dress shirt and pushed it off his shoulders. Staring as Canada's smaller hands pulled at Ivan's jacket. A moment later it fell to the floor.
Alfred felt like a total pervert, sitting there watching as Ivan and Matthew undressed each other. But he found he couldn't look away. The Russian slid the little Canadian's glasses from his face and set them aside gently. He watched as the normally naive expression on Matthew's face turned to something of lust and longing. The Canadian pushed Ivan to sit on the bed and knelt between his knees. His fingers worked to free the Russian of his belt, then pulled down his zipper.
Alfred felt himself stirring down below. Oh no. No no no. He was not getting turned on by watching his brother giving head to Russia. And yet he still couldn't force himself to look away. Ivan's fingers were tangled in Matthew's hair, stroking and petting it back from the little Canadian's face. The blond was pulling the Russian free of his pants.. and America thought his eyes would bug out from his head. Russia was.. huge.
He remembered the day his boss asked him to call Russia and order 9 inch condoms. When they'd arrived with the label 'extra small' he'd thought it had been a joke. But obviously it wasn't. He wondered how his poor brother went to bed with Ivan and could still walk and sit down the next day.
Ivan sighed in pleasure when the little Canadian took the tip into his mouth. He leaned on one arm to watch, the other hand still buried in the blond's hair. He gripped and pushed Matthew's face down, encouraging him to take it into his mouth further. Alfred had to bite back the urge to jump out of the closet and punch the Russian square in the jaw. How dare he make Canada do this! But Matthew wasn't complaining. He made it halfway before he had to stop, choking a little bit. Ivan released him immediately and Matthew came back up for air. He began to lick and kiss the sides, brushing against it with his cheek.
Alfred barely suppressed a groan. He remembered that look on his little brothers face. That half-lidded, glazed over look of total abandonment of self conscious. Those eyes filled with lust. Those cheeks flushed a deep red. Alfred knew at this point Matthew was absolutely wanton with desire. He knew because the little Canadian used to look at him that way.
He knew his brother had not been able to see the Russian as often as normal. Not with the Olympics coming up. Ivan was busy with preparing Sochi and Matthew was busy practicing for hockey and the other sporting events he planned to enter. Alfred supposed the monthly world meetings were the only chance they had to be together as of late. It was no wonder his brother was practically worshiping the Russians length with his lips and tongue.
"Ahhh.. my little Matvey.." Ivan's head was leaned back, his eyes closed. His hips were thrusting upwards into the Canadian's suckling mouth. He moaned and spoke something in Russian that Alfred couldn't understand.. but whatever it was it only seemed to excite them both even more.
Alfred couldn't take it anymore. It might have been the alcohol. He carefully undid his belt and loosened his fly. He pulled himself free and began to stroke his own length in time with the bobbing of Matthew's head.
"Yeeess.." Ivan hissed through clenched teeth and tensed, his hand firmly buried in the little Canadian's hair, holding his head in place. His hips bucked as he pumped his load into Matthew's mouth. He groaned loudly and the blond greedily swallowed everything down in three gulps. "Mmm.. more..." Matthew moaned, sucking at the tip and causing the Russian to twitch. Ivan sat up and gently pulled the little Canadian's face away. A string of sticky wetness trailed from the blond's lips. His little pink tongue stuck out, lapping at the leftovers.
Alfred saw the Russian's length had barely lost any of it's hardness. He was laying Matthew down on the bed now, and pulling him free of his pants. He only took a moment to rummage through his discarded jacket pocket and came back with a small bottle. Matthew was touching himself in anticipation. Ivan coated his fingers with lubricant from the bottle and knelt over the Canadian on the bed. The little blond lifted and spread his legs, giving the Russian access. He squeaked when two fingers brushed against him, then pushed inside.
Matthew squirmed and writhed beneath Ivan, moaning out little whimpers as the Russian's fingers pumped into him. Alfred grit his teeth and stroked himself in time, cursing himself for doing so. Had his little brother ever looked so far gone with pleasure because of him? Had he ever had the Canadian whining, begging to be taken the way Matthew was pleading with Ivan now?
"Please.. please Ivan!" The little blond cried, his back arching higher with every stroke of the Russian's fingers. "Please give it to me!"
Ivan withdrew and took more lubricant from the bottle. He stroked his member with it, coating it, fully hard again. He positioned himself at the Canadian's entrance. Alfred came into his hand with a shudder when the Russian thrust his entire length into Matthew. He had to bite his lips together to keep from crying out, his orgasm causing him to spasm wildly. His leg twitched, causing him to kick the door and he was terrified that he'd been heard. But the pair on the bed were lost in each other, moving together in a passionate embrace.
Matthew's legs were tied tightly around the Russian's pistoning hips. He was clawing at the larger mans back, leaving streaks of red against his pale skin. Ivan grabbed for his arms and pinned his wrists down against the bed. He began to pound into the little Canadian hard enough to thump the headboard against the wall.
It didn't last much longer. It couldn't. Matthew arched and cried out, shaking with the force of his orgasm. The Russian tensed again and followed, groaning as he spilled himself for a second time inside his little lover. Then they collapsed, completely spent, into a heap of two overheated, sweaty bodies.
They panted, breathing heavily as they recovered. Their sweat cooled and when Matthew began to shiver slightly from cold, Ivan pulled a blanket around them. He cradled the little Canadian in his arms and Matthew snuggled up to him, kissing him softly on the lips before they both settled down for a good nights satisfied sleep.
And poor Alfred.. was still stuck in the closet. He'd cleaned himself up as best he could.. and settled down for his own sleep. There was no escaping now. He'd have to wait until morning when Matthew checked out of his room. There was no way he'd try and sneak out and risk being seen. He worried Ivan's fists would come flying.. and that Matthew would never speak to him again.
Here we are! SEQUEL! Lol. I just can't get these two out of my head. I'm going to try and take my time with this story tho.. instead of rushing to get it all out like last time. _ That was too much.
Hope you enjoy, and more to come soon. ^.^