Expect the Unexpected

"You coming over on the 25th, or am I coming here again?" America asked as he buttoned his shirt up.

"We have not been to your place in a while, da?" Russia asked, still tangled in the heavy sheets of his bed. America nodded as he slipped on his tie. Russia closed his violet eyes. "Then I will come to you."

"Alright, I'll make the sure the states are out of the house then." He walked over to the bed in his socks, placing a hand on the mattress and leaning down. "I'll see you then." He stops an inch in front of Russia's face, his face twisted up in internal arguing. Russia opened his eyes as he felt the soft breath over his lips.

"I will see you in 3 days, comrade." And then he turned over in bed. All America wanted to do was hold Russia like he did earlier, and touch him and kiss him for something more than whatever the hell they usually did. The hardest thing America had done in a long while was step back and walk out of the room instead of shedding his clothes and jumping right back into that bed.

The 25th came, and Russia came as well, in more ways than one. The one thing America loves about Russia coming over to his house is that it takes a while for the other nation to be able to stand and walk on his own after the rough sex they both enjoy, and sometimes even longer if they were both drunk first. This means more time in the same bed, even if the cuddling America wants is so far out of reach. And then Russia leaves, with no goodbye, just plans to meet on the 30th.

The World Conference was the 28th of that month. And America decides he's fed up with having to leave right away after they make love (not have sex. There's a difference, dammit!), and not being able to hold Russia close. He decides that he's in love with Russia, and he has to say it right then or he'll explode.

And when does America decide all of this? Right in the middle of Germany's speech on environmental protection.

"It is very important that we conserve our environment," Germany was saying from the front of the long meeting table. "This environment will need to last as long as human beings live on the planet earth and-"

"I have something to say," America announces, standing up.

"America, building a hero to shield the earth from the sun will not-"

"I'm in love with Russia, and I want everyone to know it."

Germany started sputtering as he attempted to go on with his speech. England started blaming France for his influence in America's upbringing. Russia stands up and leaves the room, shooting America one of his murderous glares. As mass chaos rages in the conference room, all America can wonder is 'why is Russia leaving?' and runs after him.

"Hey, Russia!" America called, jogging to catch up with the taller nation's long stride. "Why are you leaving?"

Russia whirled around, grabbing him by the shoulder of his bomber jacket and slamming him against the wall. "Who put you up to this?" he hissed.

"Huh?" America reached up and pushed Texas farther up his nose to see Russia's face better. "Who put me up to what?"

"Who told you to say that?"

"I told me to say that!" he exclaimed. "Why would anyone have to tell me that I love you?"

"I don't believe you."

"I love you, Russia," America responded, smiling blindingly.

"No you don't. Who. Told. You. To do this?"

"Well, if you won't believe me, I'll have to prove it to you!" and in a show of strength, America grabbed Russia by the coat and managed to pull him into a nearby room. As soon as they were in the room, Russia slammed America against the wall beside the door. Alfred reached for the knob to close the door as violent violet eyes stared down at him. He managed to slam it shut before surprisingly warm lips descended on his neck. First was a deceptively gentle kiss on the side of his neck, then another one just below. America sighed and reached up to fasten his hands in Russia's hair, but before he could, gloved hands grabbed them and pushed his wrists into the wall above his head. America stared down at the top of Russia's head. As if sensing this, he snarled "don't".

"I love you."

"Stop saying that!"

"I love-ah!" Alfred was cut off by his own cry as Ivan bit his neck. His head fell back and he moaned as another bite was delivered. America managed to wiggle one of his hands out when Russia started pulling at his tie. He gripped the other's shoulder tightly.

"Don't say it!"

"I love you!"

"I said not to!"

"Unh…" America let out another moan as Russia's hips slammed against his. He arched up in response, breath starting to come faster. His free hand tugged fiercely at the clasps to Russia's jacket, eventually pulling the first one undone. He tugged at the second one, but his hand was grabbed again.

"I love you."
"Stop-" Russia started, raising his head. America took his chance and shot his head forward to connect their lips.

The way they were standing, the only way for Ivan to get away was to release Alfred's wrists. When they were free, America pulled the other closer again. He pressed insistently, sliding his lips over surprisingly warm ones. His lips were pried open by Russia's tongue, and he smiled as he opened his mouth. Ivan's tongue rubbed roughly against his, which elicited a small moan. Alfred pushed up against his lover, molding their hips and chests together.

"Ah!" He threw his head back, inadvertently breaking the kiss and canting his hips up again. Once his brain re-solidified, he started on undoing Russia's jacket again.

After a minute or so of Russia standing motionless with America pressed up against him, he pushed Alfred by the shoulders against the wall once again. The darker blond whimpered and tried to push forward, opening his eyes when he couldn't.

"Why?" America asked, panting.

"Stop this."

"I know you don't mean it."

"I love you."

"NO you don't!"
"I love you!"
"You don't!"
"I do! Think about it. I could've picked almost anyone, but I chose you! Why would I stick with only you if I didn't love you?" America searched the emotions in Russia's eyes, then smiled. "You love me too, don't you?"


"That's why you care so much. Because you love me too."

"I…" Instead of answering, Russia pressed his lips against America's again. Alfred hooked one leg over Ivan's hip, in order to press against his more fully.

"Ivan," he panted as the lighter blond's lips met his neck again. "I need you."
A gloved hand undid his tie and unbuttoned his shirt and suit jacket in record time. America pulled Russia's jacket off his shoulders and down his arms before it was shrugged off. Alfred did the same to his bomber jacket, suit jacket, and shirt. Ivan attacked his shoulders and collar bone as Alfred fumbled with Russia's shirt. That was pushed off just as Ivan's lips closed around a dusky nipple.

"Ah!" Alfred arched up, his hands gripping Ivan's shoulders tightly. When this made their hips slam together, he let out another moan. "Ivan," he gasped as teeth scraped the nub. "I want to feel what you feel…"

"Are you sure?" Ivan murmured against his lover's chest.

"Yes…always been curious…"

"All right, Alfred." He ground harshly against Alfred.


Russia quickly unbuckled America's belt and unzipped the zipper, finally shoving the tan slacks down his hips. Alfred shakily undid Ivan's belt, pulling his pants down as well.

"No underwear?" The darker blond panted. "Expecting something?"

"Everyone hopes, da?"

"…Were you anticipating this?"

No response, except for the red, white, and blue boxers falling to the floor. Alfred grabbed Ivan's fingers, taking the first three into his mouth. His tongue swept over the long digits, sliding over, under, and around them, slicking them with his experienced tongue. He released them with a pop, smiling up at his lover. Ivan swept his fingers along the side of Alfred's shaft, his thumb rubbing the head.

"A-ah." America's head fell back.

"Are you ready?" Russia asked, fingers circling the other's tight entrance.

"Just do it." The lighter blond pushed the tip of one finger in, wiggling it slightly before pushing it farther in. Alfred bit his lip, trying to stave off the intensely uncomfortable feeling.

"Relax," he was told. "It will hurt less." He tried to slow his breathing and relax, hitching his leg higher over Ivan's hip. Another finger was soon added, the two scissoring Alfred's tight entrance. The fingers started shifting around and thrusting in deeper, until they pressed against a small nub.

"Unh!" Alfred's hips moves back against the digits, letting out another moan as the fingers pressed against his prostate again. A third finger was pushed in, this time only slightly uncomfortable.

Ivan withdrew his fingers, raising his own hand to his lips. America pushed the hand back down, unhooking his leg and falling to his knees in front of Russia.

"Al-ah…" Russia let out a quiet groan as Alfred engulfed him entirely. The darker blond's lips and tongue worked furiously, then pulled away leaving a coating of saliva behind. Alfred stood up again, pulling his lover close again.

"I'm ready. Do it."

Ivan grabbed America's hips and lifted him up. Alfred wrapped his hips around his waist, his hands gripping the pale shoulders. Slowly, America lowered himself, until Russia was entirely sheathed in him.

"Alfred," Ivan groaned, doing his best to stay still.

"This is what you feel every time?" Alfred asked, tears pricking the corners of his eyes because of the immense pain of being completely filled. Russia nodded. "Sorry…so many times I could've been gentler…"

"It's all right…" They stayed still a little while longer, before Alfred ground his hips down.


Ivan nodded, lifting up his lover and then lowering him again. Alfred let out a moan as he was filled again.

"Ivan…" he started moving faster with the help of Ivan's hands on his hips. "Unh…so full…"

Ivan shifted his hips slightly, and at this new angle he brushed against the bundle of nerves deep within Alfred. When a gasp confirmed its location, the next thrust was aimed directly at that spot. America jerked back, moaning loudly.

"There…again…" Russia pushed him harder into the wall as his thrusts sped up. "H-harder!" Ivan ruthlessly slammed into Alfred's prostate with every thrust.

"So close…Ivan…"

"Alfred," Russia moaned, feeling the coil in his abdomen coil impossibly tighter. "I love you."

America's body tensed up, his back arching with a yell. His eyes clenched shut and his mouth was opened in a silent scream. AS Alfred's passage constricted around Ivan's length he released with a guttural moan.

Both nations panted as they came down from their highs. Ivan pulled slightly away from Alfred as his erection slid out of America's passage, America pulling him back close to him almost immediately after.

"Being a bottom isn't half bad," Alfred panted with a lazy smile.

"Being a top isn't bad either." Ivan placed Alfred on his feet, holding him up when he stumbled.

"How do you deal with the pain after, though?" America asked. "I mean, I don't think I'll be able to walk, or sit, for days!"

"You get used to it."

"Yeah," America replied. "I think I will." He laid his head on Ivan's shoulder. "I definitely will."

Back in the World Conference, or what was left of it, chaos had ensued.

"Let me go!" England roared, struggling against France and Spain's hold on him. "He's attacking America! Did you hear that yelling?!"

"They are not fighting, Angleterre!" France replied.

"Then…then…Russia's RAPING America! Let me go!"

"It's not rape if you are willing! C'est l'amour!"

"I'm going to kill America," Belarus seethed, held back by Ukraine. "I'm the one who loves Russia! I will become one with him!"

"Don't you dare touch America!" England screamed at her. "If you do, I'll show you exactly why I used to be called the British Empire!"

"They must be having a really loud argument in there!" Italy exclaimed. "Maybe they're wrestling or something, too!"

Germany facepalmed.

"Hey, Austria," Prussia said, wrapping an arm around the other's shoulders. "Why don't we try doing it in a conference room sometime, too? Only going at it in the bedroom…and the piano room…and the kitchen…we could try a change of scenery…"

Austria sniffed in an aristocratic fashion, blushing slightly. "Uncouth."

"I don't know about uncouth…they seemed to have had a good time…"

"No! America would not enjoy that! He wouldn't! Don't be daft!"
"Angleterre! Du calme, du calme!"

"Speak bloody English you wanker!"

France just sighed and kept restraining England, who continued to rage and shout, as Belarus did with Ukraine holding her back. Germany just looked around the room, then sighed.

"Why do world conferences always end up like this…"