Oh lord, here I go again! This story is a hell of a lot of fun to write for some reason XD I'm really glad you guys like it so far and I hope you enjoy this second chapter. Still not entirely sure where I want this to go, but you know, it's fun. Really, I can honestly say writing this is enjoyable. Of course their relationship in this is completely opposite in Half Moon Rising, where it's completely innocent, but this is fun to write too. Hopefully I'm doing the RussUS pairing some justice.
Shout outs to all those who reviewed last chapter!
marmoki, glasskimono, Superbi, Miss Chelle, Victoria Wan, LightBender (my hero reviewed my story, so my life is complete), Verocat (she deals with me contantly asking her to translate words so for that she is also my hero), xgravigirlxl, greenpanic6, callmecrazy, koholint (she always leaves me awesome reviews that make me squee she is also my hero), Desolate Heaven (glad you liked their interaction so much), Blake Bishop, and SheWhoRunsWithScissors!
Thank you guys for dealing with my wierdness, this chapter is for you!
Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia :(
When Ivan arrived at the designated address with Belarus by his side, he instantly got the gut feeling he had just made the biggest mistake of his life. On the phone, the American had been as weird and cocky as Ivan remembered. America shamelessly flirted with him throughout the entire conversation while, much to Ivan's utter humiliation, the nation known as Australia laughed wildly in the background.
He barely managed to keep business the main topic of conversation as America threaded in innuendo after innuendo.
"I need to see you."
"Your place or mine?"
"You're right, we'll save the teasing for the foreplay."
"I need you for a job."
"Really? Although I really haven't had much practice in that area. I'll have to stretch my jaw muscles."
"Arousing, thought provoking, sexy?"
"I was going to say disgusting, but I'll let your twisted little mind come to its own conclusion."
"All these years and still playing hard to get. Lucky for you I like a challenge."
By the time Ivan finally was able to hang up the phone, he had come to two conclusions. One, he wasn't going there alone (thus he brought along his frightening younger sister) and two, he was somehow going to poison Australia (preferably while he was laughing, the bastard).
The designated address turned out to be a mansion so grandiose, Ivan checked the notepad he wrote the numbers on again to make sure he hadn't made a mistake. Ivan imagined America's house to be some sort of ramshackle old place one might see in a science fiction movie. Much like America's appearance, he'd been expecting nuts and bolts with various satellite dishes sticking out of the roof. Perhaps a few smoke explosions to add to the American's gizmo-loving personality.
Instead he was greeted by an emerald lawn and lush flowerbeds. The entire mansion was a pearly white, almost like a plantation house, complete with a white picket fence and a beautiful ornamental door. Lush curtains covered the windows, meaning there were secrets inside that Ivan was soon to discover.
Belarus looked about the place with her usual cold violet eyes, her black bonnet placed over her silver hair and her hands balled into tight fists. The leather of her gloves squeaked as they made their way to the porch. Everything was so sunny and Ivan knew he and his sister were out of place, with their entirely black attire.
"Are you sure this is the correct place?" Belarus asked, keeping her gaze glued to the door.
"Da," Ivan replied as he grasped the iron knocker and slammed it three times. After a moment, the intercom by the door crackled to life and a smooth British accent flowed out.
"Welcome to the Jones Mansion, do you have an appointment?" the voice sounded articulate and intelligent. Well, at least someone who was working with such a strange nation was.
"I do," Ivan answered.
"State your name."
"Russia." There was a moment of silence and then a thick hiss of static indicated the man on the other end sighed.
"Come in then, the door is unlocked. You and your…guest stay by the door and Mr. Jones will be down to greet you momentarily." Ivan looked at Belarus briefly and gave a curt nod. She repeated the gesture, letting him know that yes, she did have her knives ready. Soundlessly, he and his sister entered the mansion and were once again surprised by the interior.
Unlike the neatly order of the outside, Ivan's previous assumption that America's house was the wacky laboratory was an accurate description of what lay within the beautiful Victorian mansion. A grand staircase rose before them, littered with documents spangled with tiny printed letters. Wires were interwoven with the banisters while a white marble floor shone beneath their boots. Upon further inspection, Ivan was aware of two camera lenses focused on them.
"There you are!" Ivan felt something in his heart twist at the sound of that familiar voice. He looked up the staircase to see America in the flesh, that same stupid grin on his face. He hadn't changed much from when Russia last saw him. He still had that silky blond hair and those piercing blue eyes, but there was something off about the way he carried himself--less confidence, and more self-consciousness. "I've been waiting to meet you!" His voice was also a lot gentler than Russia remembered.
Russia was also utterly surprised when America came down the stairs and politely shook his hand. Ivan blinked a few times. He had half-expected America to start groping him, but give him a handshake?
"Is this him?" Belarus asked. America merely tilted his head curiously as Ivan gave a confirming nod. In two second's flat, Belarus pressed a knife to America's neck and had him backed into a wall. Her feet were braced apart, ready to surge forward and slit his throat at Ivan's command.
"Woah, what's going on here?" America asked, blue eyes wide as he shakily raised his hands. There was something different about the way he stood. (Ivan would know, practically everything America had done that night in the office was burned into his brain like a cattle brand). There was none of that horribly annoying confidence, just pure bewilderment. Ivan found himself frowning slightly, but merely brushed the difference aside and waltzed calmly to stand next to Belarus.
"America," Ivan greeted, a cold smile tugging at his lips. "Long time no see." America gave a confused look and frowned.
"America?" At this, Belarus turned to stare at her brother. Ivan quickly found a feeling comparable only to dread curl into his stomach. What was going on here?
"Yes, that's what you introduced yourself as when you decided to invade my boss's holdings." America's face twisted into an unreadable expression for a moment before a nervous smile quivered onto his lips. For some reason, such an expression on America's face was somewhat disturbing.
"O-Oh," he stuttered, eyes lowering to stare uncomfortably at the blade held before him. "Um…well, you see…uh…"
"Hey, I thought you came to see me, not decapitate my little brother!"
"Little brother?" Ivan asked aloud. He then made the mistake of turning around. There stood yet another America, only this one was clearly annoyed with his arms crossed over his chest. Belarus also seemed confused as she glanced over her shoulder at the doppelganger. Then glanced at Russia with a look that clearly begged the question, "What kind of funhouse did you drag me to?"
"Ah, yes, my name is Canada. I'm America's younger twin brother," the America pinned by Belarus's knife introduced.
"Twins, of course," Belarus sighed, stepping away from Canada and sheathing her blade back in her sleeve. Ivan looked at Canada for a moment, now noticing the slight differences between the brothers. Canada's blond hair was slightly wavier and was parted in the middle, whereas America's was perfectly straight and brushed to the side.
America didn't look happy in the least and stormed over to where Ivan stood. Thankfully, the Russian was now completely recovered from his initial shock and horror at being confronted by two Americas and held his ground.
"So, you throw all your attention at my brother when it's you and I who have the chemistry?" Ivan let out a breath, struggling to keep his face stoic. So this was 'chemistry' at work.
"Chemistry?" Belarus asked, her voice hard as she glared up at her brother. "What is he talking about, Russia?"
"Oh, you didn't tell her?" America questioned, his mood souring even further. "Jeeze, it's one thing to play hard to get, and another thing entirely to send a guy mixed signals then go ahead and flirt with his brother."
"Mixed signals?" Belarus's voice was now completely dangerous and Ivan felt like a teenager who had been dating two girls and was now caught in the middle of those two girls finding out about each other's existence. Belarus had long since developed slightly incestuous feelings for him and now he cursed himself for bringing her along.
"I thought he was you. It's been awhile," Ivan found himself saying. America's blue eyes softened and that easy grin Russia remembered was back on his face.
"S'okay, handsome," he teased, before wrapping his arms around one of Russia's. Belarus inhaled sharply from somewhere beside him, and Ivan rolled his eyes up to the ceiling begging whatever deity existed to have the Earth swallow him alive. "As long as you keep your attention on me from now on." Ivan gave a sigh and removed his arm from America's grip when his prayer was ignored.
"Sorry about the confusion, America," Canada apologized, his voice so soft Russia wondered how they were possibly related. "I just wanted to see the one you've been obsessing over all these years." America blew through his lips before grinning up at Russia.
"Well, now you've seen him. Now do you see why I like him?"
"Anyway, you and your lady friend follow me, and I'll introduce you to the rest of the crew," America said beginning to walk into the next room.
"She happens to be my sister," Ivan corrected. America halted for a moment before turning briefly with a grin.
"Well, that's good. I was afraid I might have had competition." America turned around again and gestured with his hand for them to follow.
"I don't like him," Belarus hissed. "He's absolutely shameless."
"And you think I do?" Ivan responded dryly.
"Apparently you have 'chemistry'," Belarus retorted.
"Well, you've met Canada, my younger twin," America said obviously not hearing them. "You can always tell us apart because I'm the sexy one, obviously." He looked over his shoulder and winked at Ivan, who felt a shameful flush creep up the back of his neck.
They stopped as America entered a rather dark room and flipped on the lights, revealing what looked like a workshop. Many microphones hung on the ceiling, turning lightly in the breeze kicked up by the humming of an air conditioner.
"So we can call England from wherever we are in the room," America explained as they made their way through the endless rows of wires and nick-nacks. "You'd be surprised how full our hands get, so I figured why not install mics everywhere on the ceiling, that way you can just reach up and call."
"Strange way of thinking," Ivan remarked.
"I prefer unique, but who's judging?"
Finally, the shorter nation stopped before a man stationed on a black swivel chair in front of a heavily-wired computer screen. He was so intent on his game of "Pong" beeping away on the screen, he didn't turn around. Ivan could see blond hair sticking out of the bottom a brown felt hat and wondered if perhaps he and America were also related.
"And this is Australia," America introduced, taking the back of the swivel chair and twisting it around so the man in the chair faced them. Australia gave a startled yelp and threw his arms out to the side to keep himself from falling off.
"America, you just made me lose my high score!" Indeed, he and America did have much of the same features, including equally vibrant blue eyes. Australia however, appeared a bit older than America and more roughened, mostly due to the band-aid across the bridge of his nose.
"Oh, the tragedy," America joked sarcastically. "Be polite, we have customers." With that, America kicked the chair out from under the other nation and forced him to his feet. Australia gave a grumble as America slung an arm over his shoulder. "Australia is our pilot and direction coordinator. He also handles our radio transmissions. In other words, he's amazing, and if it were possible, I'd have his babies just to better the human race."
"As if I'd reproduce with you, mate," Australia laughed, his bitter face relaxing into a good humored expression. His blue eyes studied Ivan for a moment, before halting on Belarus. "America, you didn't tell me a pretty sheila was going to be coming along with the star of your wet dreams." Ivan inwardly fantasized about beating Australia's face in and felt his own expression darken.
However, the other nation seemed not to notice as he leaned in closer to Belarus, sweeping off his had so it hung down his back by the leather thong attached to the brim. Licking his thumb he slicked down one of his eyebrows.
"What are you doing?" Belarus demanded as Australia flashed her a broad grin.
"Did you know I'm the only country that's also a continent."
"Did you know I happen to have a lot of powerful friends in the Belorussian Black Market and have stabbed a man in the temple for trying cop a feel?"
"Kinky," Australia replied. "I like my sheilas feisty."
"Must be something about the family, eh?" America said smugly.
"You know, I'm single, and very flexible," Australia smirked.
"Come any closer and I will slice your manhood off. I have done that shit before," Belarus snarled warningly.
"Alright Australia, I think she gets the point," America laughed. "I'm giving a tour so that Russia will find our services to his standards. Do me a favor and call England down here."
"Alright," Australia said, turning away from Belarus as he reached upwards and grabbed one of the three mics in reach hanging above his head.
"Hey, English!" Australia yelled into the head. "We've got customers!" From what Ivan assumed was an intercom system wired throughout the entire mansion, they heard what sounded like brief struggles before a breathless voice spoke from what sounded like all around them.
"Stop calling me that you stupid git! It's England, and I'm aware of Mr. Russia's presence!" There was a pause before England's voice took on a much more polite tone. "I'll be right down and I hope these imbeciles have not harmed you in any way." The speakers crackled and not two seconds later, a door on the far side of the room slid open and out walked a rather short man with sandy blond hair and unusually thick eyebrows. He was wearing a pair of small reading glasses and an expensive looking suit.
"This is English," Australia introduced.
"England," the man corrected, shooting Australia a nasty look, narrowing his bright green eyes.
"England is the guy that handles all the paperwork. Yeah, that's about it," America finished.
"Idiot, Canada and I keep this little organization of yours running smoothly. We handle the money, prepare your equipment, and deal with all the customers."
"Sure, sure, but Australia and I keep it fun," America reminded. "Anyway, that's our team. So if you don't mind, step into my office with me and we'll discuss the payment plan." Ivan nodded and turned to Belarus.
"I need you to stay here," then he added in a lower voice, "if I'm not out in ten minutes kill everyone here." Belarus gave quick nod, barely visible. Ivan turned to stare at America, who had not stopped smiling since Russia arrived.
"Please be polite," England hissed into America's ear, although Ivan heard it perfectly.
"Of course, Iggy," America assured. "Come on," he said to Russia, turning on his heel and heading towards the door England had appeared out of. Ivan wordlessly followed him inside and was surprised once again to find a completely clean office, with two couches stationed by a large window. Outside, Ivan was able to see the vast gardens and a bird feeder.
"Lovely garden," he complimented.
"Canada's," America responded, sitting down smoothly on one of the couches. Ivan had to swallow roughly as the bright sunlight seemed to frame America's golden hair in a halo of light. "He's always out there, tending to everything. He's a really sweet kid. Hard to imagine we're twins, huh?"
"It is a bit strange," Russia admitted, still standing in the middle of the office.
"You can sit, you know?" America gestured to the spot next to him. Ivan however, sat on the couch opposite of him, and folded his hands in his lap. "Stubborn as ever I see."
"America," Russia said sternly. "The reason I'm here is because I need you to bug the office of the French Prime minister. Apparently, there are rumors of him having WMD's against my boss."
"Okay, can do," America responded. "I'll have Australia ready the plane right away. So, it's old Francis, huh? Well, I know his Prime Minister's building like the back of my hand so it should be no problem. I trust you think my staff is up to the challenge."
"Of course," Ivan sighed, knowing it was true. After all, America had gotten away from him all those years ago. "Now, tell me your price."
"A kiss." Ivan let out a breath, trying his hardest to make it seem annoyed rather than shaky.
"I'm being serious."
"So am I," America replied, leaning back on the couch and throwing his arm over the back. "I told you I liked you and I want you to kiss me. Last time you didn't respond, but you called me. Granted, it took you three years, but you called me so you obviously feel something." Ivan frowned, feeling his stomach tie itself in a knot, trying to deny what America had just said.
"I called you because I needed your services."
"That may be part of it, but regardless, I've named my price. You can take it or leave it." America's lips were tilted in a crooked smile, that same arrogantly cocky smile, and Ivan vaguely remembered the taste of them. He was pretty sure they held the taste of absolute freedom. His own tingled from the memory, from the unnatural warmth that radiated from the other nation. He thought back to all the times he tried to burn that horrible business card and growled lowly.
"Ty suchyi vyblyadok!" he spat in Russian, bristling from beneath his black coat. He felt something like need press against his gut, going lower and lower.
"I don't speak Spanish," America sighed, still resting easy on the couch. "Like I said, take it or leave it." Ivan felt his eyes narrow, but found himself actually considering the offer.
"I trust your service will be of top caliber?"
"You trust right," America continued to smile like a cat who had just eaten all the cream. "A kiss from you is worth all the money in the world. I've waited for three years, and let me tell you, I usually don't wait more than ten minutes for what I want." Ivan felt his heart begin to patter erratically as America tilted his head, making it appear as if his hair were made of the sun itself as it framed his tanned cheeks. He was the exact opposite of Russia, who was pale and seemingly made of ice.
"What kind of kiss?" Russia found himself asking.
"You know the kind. The kind we would have had if you had responded accordingly." Ivan found himself both disgusted and aroused. He realized America was playing with him, pushing him to see how far he was going to go. It was bad enough that he had shown up here, despite needing a bug planted. He was a spy too, he could have done it himself.
Again, his eyes traveled to America's smiling lips, and he felt the want grow stronger at the memory of the taste, of how he had started licking his lips as a habit. Yes, perhaps it was time to finish this.
Ever so slowly, Ivan lifted himself from his seat and walked forward. America merely smiled up at him, waiting patiently. In his mind, Ivan was calling him every foul name in the book as he reached out a hand and cupped America's face.
"You know, Alfred F. Jones, I find my dislike for you increasing the more time we spend together." To his surprise, Ivan felt his own lips twist into a grin as he straddled the American's lap and pushed him roughly against the back of the couch.
"Really? Because it's the opposite for me," America responded, toying with the end of Russia's scarf. "Guess that's our different cultures talking. "And you know I have to ask so, what's your human name?"
"You haven't earned it yet," Ivan teased, his eyes narrowing as he smiled coyly. "You may call me Russia." Ivan let his other hand feel up the front of America's buttoned shirt, pause at his neck momentarily, then slide up the other nation's warm cheek and remove the glasses. "However, you are the one with lovely eyes and while I perform such a vulgar act in return for your 'services' I'd like to look at them."
"Go on," America pressed. "Just don't break them. They're Texas."
"Ah," Russia mused, placing the glasses on the arm of the couch. "So is that a snake in your pants, or are you just happy to see me?"
"Happy to see you."
"You really have no shame," Russia concluded, letting his head drop until their lips were inches apart. He felt America's breath wash over him, and knew the American was getting excited.
"Why lie?" America asked, shrugging a bit as Russia's thumb traced the curve of his jaw.
"Indeed." Ivan kissed him while the word still hung in the air. He started out slow, letting his lips gently brush America's, teasingly almost. America responded cautiously, not willing to take control, but follow Ivan's movements. He gently opened his mouth and let his tongue brush the other nation's bottom lip, the familiar taste that haunted him for three years retuning like a long forgotten addiction.
He felt America's hand wander into his hair and draw him in closer, and he tilted America's face upwards to gain better access. Soon, their tongues were pressing against one another, their lips molding together. Ivan felt the overwhelming feeling he successfully suppressed that night in his boss's office take over and he let his body press against America's.
To his surprise, America still obediently followed his lead, not trying to gain dominance, but let Ivan do as he wished, sighing every now and then into his mouth. America's mouth was just as warm as he remembered and soft and pliable against Ivan's implemental nips and licks.
So this was the taste of freedom. What he had been thinking about all this time, and what he'd been denying himself all these years. He pulled back a little, still depositing smaller kisses onto the other nation's lips. On the final interval, he let his kiss linger, feeling America's breath on his cheek as he breathed through his nose.
Finally, he pulled back all the way, smiling as he met the bright blue of America's eyes. Those eyes had flickered in his memory at every thought, every time he tried to forget. Everything about this nation had haunted and tortured him now that he thought about it, but now, he had taken the initiative, had claimed what he wanted.
"Wow, that was…" America trailed off, breathless. "No wonder you play hard to get, you can kiss."
"Really?" Ivan tilted his head, hands still resting on either side of America's face. "Now, I expect quality service." America simply nodded dumbly. "And that, dear Alfred, is what you call karma." Russia bent forward quickly and pecked America on the cheek, the exact same way the shameless nation had done the night he broke into Ivan's boss's office, and removed himself from Alfred's lap.
"I have to double my efforts after this," America concluded, standing up along with Russia. "I knew I could pick them." Ivan grinned and turned towards the door.
"Oh, and I'll be accompanying you on this mission I've assigned you, so be prepared. I can't have you screwing this up now can I?"
"I'll be looking forward to it. You better get out there though, before our ten minutes are up and your sister decides to use Australia's head as a chopping block."
"In that case," Ivan began, turning around abruptly and wrapping his arms around America's shoulders and tipping their foreheads together. "Let's experiment for another ten, shall we?" Rather than feel disturbed America had heard his command to his sister, he found it strangely endearing.
Before America could answer, Ivan's lips were pressed to his own.
Juicy xD I hope you liked it. Oh, and if you want to see a different side to this pair that's slightly more innocent I suggest reading Half Moon Rising another story I plan to work on once I reach the stopping point to Seven Little Killers! It's very fluffy like pillows so enjoy! This one is still kinda wonky, but I hope you guys like it!