Summary: Russia is having a party, which everyone is invited to! Among them, Canada ends up being the only sober one by the end. Was this all according to Russia's plan...?
Parings: RussiaXCanada! And USUK action!
Disclamer: I don't own. _
Warnings: FIRST LEMON I'VE EVER WRITIN! So, uh, lemon and crap writing. I gave up after my computer deleted half of my work and I had to rewrite the ending... It's also unbeta-ed, so there were probably be a hella lot of mistakes.
A/N: This is a birthday fic for my friend Nobody! It's also my first lemon and, therefore, it'll probably suck. It's also my first Hetaila based fanfic, which is awesome. xD Anyway, reviews would be awesome!
There's nothing like the sound of a freaked out American kicking down your bedroom door at 6am to wake you up for a seriously stupid misunderstanding.
"I'M BEING INVADED!"
"...Ehh...?" Matthew mumbled as he peaked his head out from under the thick blankets, his eyes only half open, "Alfred, what the...? Do you know what time it is, eh?"
The American responded by jumping on top of the Canadian's twin sized bed and shoving a piece of paper in his face. "Dude! This is no laughing matter! Russia, that commie bastard, just declared war on me!"
The country blinked and squinted at the paper that was pressed to his nose, bringing a fist to his eyes to wipe sleep from them. "...Eh? B-But I thought you two just got out of a war!"
"We did! That bastard just can't get enough of the hero!" The look on the 'hero's face was a strange mix between worry and pride.
Clumsily grabbing his glasses from the bedside table, Matthew took the note from his brother and read the small black letters from a clearly typed note:
Tomorrow night, in honor of the lovely spring weather that has suddenly come upon my house, I would like to invite you, America, to my home for a party! There will be drinks and food, so there should be no reason why you shouldn't be able to go, da~?
"See! That damn Russia totally declared war on me! I'm gonna nuke his ass before he can nuke mine!"
Shaking his head, the Canadian chuckled tiredly and then weakly grabbed Alfred's wrist before he had the chance to storm out of the room to go cause a nuclear war with the larger country. "Alfred, this isn't a declaration of war, eh! It's an invitation to a party!"
America blinked a few times as an dumb expression crossed his face, "Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, ...whoa. What?"
"He invited you to a party he's throwing," Matthew yawned and smiled at his idiotic brother, "If anything, it's to make peace between you and the other countries!"
There was a pause before the other country started laughing.
"Eh? What did I say?"
"Ahahahaha! That Russian bastard wanting to make peace? Dude, he'd poison all the food and try to kill us all! Just like that one vampire dude!"
"Alfred, that 'vampire dude' was Vlad the Impaler, and I'm surprised you even know about that...I take it England had been reading to you again," The Canadian paused for a moment before continuing on carefully, "So...do you plan on going?"
"HELLS NO!" Alfred started laughing again, doubling over in giggles, "NOTHING could POSSIBLY get me go over to that COMMIE'S house for a PARTY of all things! Not even if England forced me to!"
As if on cue, America's new, super kick ass phone started blaring the lyrics to 'The Bad Touch' so loudly that it made the Canadian jolt in surprise.
"Do it now
You and me baby ain't nothin' but mammals
So let's do it like they do on the Discovery Channel
Do it again now
You and me baby ain't nothin' but mammals-"
"Oops! Sorry, that's me!" the American grinned as he grabbed his phone and pressed a button on the touch screen. It took him a few times before he was actually able to answer his phone. "Sup, British dude! What's crackin'?" he greeted, only to have his ear blown off as a flurry of English insults were hurled into his ear drum, cause the American to pull the phone away from his ear and scowl, "Jeez, Artie! Mind tonein' it down a bit? You sound like an angry mother hen!"
Sighing as Alfred continued talking to the enraged Britton on the other end of the phone, Matthew slipped out from under the covers warm covers of his bed and made his way across the cold floor to his dresser to find clothing for the day.
Honestly, he wasn't very surprised to see Alfred, since his brother had been mooching off him for the past few weeks, but he was surprised that he had been invited to a party thrown by one of his worst enemies. Yes, spring fever could take even the strongest of souls, the Russian included, but even this seemed a little out of character. The last time Russia through a party... Well, it ended with him taking control of Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania. From what Matthew had gathered from watching the Allies (being the great observer he was since he was never noticed), Russia only ever did anything if there was something in it for him.
This made the Canadian worry a bit about his head-strong brother, but he was fully assured that Alfred would without a doubt, not go to the large country's party.
However, Matthew couldn't help but feel a bit jealous since he wasn't invited, but he was used to being over looked when it came to these social functions.
As he tugged a crisp white shirt over his head, he heard his brother huffily hang up his phone and cross his arms, pouting so forcefully that the Canadian would have smiled if he wasn't so tired. "What happened, eh?"
"It was England, he's making me go to that damn commie's party," Alfred grumbled, kicking Matthew's hardwood floor with the toe of his boot.
"But I thought you said you weren't going to even let him-"
"I said what now?"
"...Never mind. What did he say?"
"He said that if I didn't go, he'd put me on restriction," the American pouted, "Asshole red coat..."
"Oh, come on, Alfred," the country said comfortingly, "It probably won't be that bad..."
"Of course you would say that! You haven't even met the bastard!"
"Hey, do you wanna come with us?"
"Ehhh?" Matthew blinked in shock at the sudden question, "Y-You want me to go with you and England to Russia's party?"
"Well, yeah, duh!" Alfred rolled his eyes and put his hands on his hips in a manly way, "Knowing Eyebrows, he'll probably get drunk hella super quick, and I'll need help carrying his smashed ass home. And besides, it's not like you have anything else better to do, right?"
"Perfect! Artie and I will come pick you up around 5-ish tomorrow!"
"Dude, I'm starving! I'm gonna go grab some breakfast!"
"But Alfred, I-"
"Later bro!" And with that, the American slammed the bedroom door shut to go attend to his rumbling tummy, leaving the Canadian alone and VERY confused.
"...What the MAPLE just happened?"
"Dude! THIS PLACE IS HUGE!"
The American's exclamation was an understatement. Russia's house was GIGANTIC.
Placed in the center of a large court yard, the large country's house was at the very least three stories tall, possibly four if you counted the tower that jutted out of the center of the roof. It looked like a castle from the medieval era...
'Or a fortress...' Matthew thought in awe as he stepped out of the small very yellow and VERY British car which Alfred and he had carpooled in with the very tense England. The hole place was surrounded by a large, stone wall, and the gate they drove through to get into the court yard was nothing short of pointy and intimidating. If this truly was a trap, then there would be no hope of escape.
Crisp, white snow was crushed under the Canadian's shoes as he trudged up to the massive door which marked the entrance into huge mansion, the chill of the night air mixed with the ice laden ground not having any effect on him, as he was used to this sort of weather at his home. Out of habit, he pulled his bright red hoodie closer to his meek form as he waited for the arguing, match made in heaven to join him under the light of the burning torches.
Yep, it was definitely primeval enough to be a fortress.
"Well of course it's huge, you git! What the bloody hell did you expect?" England huffed, shivering in his stylish but otherwise useless blazer. "Obviously, his place would be all antwacky," he rolled his acid green eyes, completely ignoring the blank look his slang had brought to the American's face.
"What the hell is an 'antwacky'?" Alfred asked, also shivering under his World War bomber jacket.
"Oh, bloody hell...I forgot that you're a damn yank." Another eye roll.
"Heyyy! What's that supposed to mean, Artie?" he replied with a pout.
"Would you stop with the damn nickname! Keep using it and everyone will find out what my real name is!"
"Hey guys..." Matthew said hesitantly.
"Ah! But you didn't say you didn't like it~"
"YOU DAMN WANKER! WHEN THIS PARTY ENDS, I SWEAR TO GOD I'LL-"
"Hey guys! Would you knock it off with the fighting, eh?" Matthew said a little louder.
"You'll what, Artie? What will you do to me?"
England growled, "I'LL RIP YOUR-"
"HEY GUYS! Can you just stop, eh?"
Both of the blondes turned to face the normally quiet Canadian, England most definitely shocked and Alfred looking slightly impressed. There was a long pause before someone broke the silence.
"Wow, Mattie...I didn't know you had it in ya to shout," the American said in such an impressed voice that Matthew felt his cheeks go red.
The red faced Brit coughed, slightly embarrassed by the fact that he hadn't noticed that the Canadian was there until just then. "Oh, well, ah, we should get inside. It is rather chilly out here, wouldn't you say so, America?"
Scoffing, said country rolled his eyes at his british counter-part. "Whatever dude. The climate 'round here is about as warm as your sense of fun," he said as he sauntered away from the Brit and pushed right past his brother to knock loudly on the big, wooden door. The Englishman followed behind, his huge eyebrows pushed together in a duck faced pout.
Alfred knocked a total of five times before the door was answered by a timid looked Lithuania, his face in it's normal form of apologetic, though slightly redder. "Sorry, sorry! I didn't hear you knocking," he apologized upon seeing the three guests (well, two), "I hope you haven't been waiting long..."
"Nah, it's okay, dude!" Alfred grinned, patting the eldest Baltic on the shoulder with a mile wide grin, "I'm just glad you opened the door before I froze my balls off!"
The brown haired Lithuanian chuckled awkwardly and opened the door wider to allow them to enter, nearly shutting the door in the Canadian's face. However, the small blonde country was able to catch the door before it closed, his cat-like reflexes coming into action from his years of having doors slammed in his face. "Yeah...I'm glad you decided to come America," he smiled, not noticing how Matthew had kept the door from closing, "You too, England."
"Well, it's not a party until I arrive!" the American puffed out his chest, "Arite over here on the other hand, well he-OW!"
"My apologizes. My foot slipped," England frowned, crossing his arms over his chest in a huffy manner.
"God damn it, that fucking hurt, you know!" Alfred said, clutching his foot in pain.
"Oh, belt up! Stop acting like such a child, I barely touched you!"
As the two bickered, Matthew had ended up standing next to the awkward looking Lithuania, who still was unaware of his presence. The Canadian sighed, trying to make it as loud and obvious as possible. However, the Baltic state still didn't notice his presence.
Some things never change, do they?
Sighing again, Matthew snuck away (more like walked away) from the group in order to hopefully enjoy the party which he had practically crashed.
The party had, so far, been a compete disaster for the young Canadian. Or at least he thought to as he leaned against a balcony fence which looked out over a dead garden where the only thing that was currently in bloom were the evergreen trees and bushes which were littered around the empty, snow covered flower beds.
It had started out okay. Apparently America, England, and him were the second to last ones to arrive, followed shortly by France who wanted to be 'fashionably late', but it appeared as though Russia had invited most of the European countries, and plus some more from around the Mediterranean. Overall, there were a good amount of party goers, but not enough for it to be crazy huge. Unrememberable background music played as Matthew got himself a drink, vodka since it seemed to be the only drink available, and then proceeded to sit down in the the living room where most of the other countries were gathered. Of corse, no one paid any attention to him, and continued chatting and flirting with their fellow superpowers, leaving the Canadian to watch and enjoy the sharp taste of his drink as the night slowly trudged on.
Horribly, painfully, slowly did it trudged on.
Matthew had been sat on at least twelve times before he resorted to standing, fives times by Spain alone, who often didn't look where he sat and just sorta fell into the young Canadian's lap multiple times. Everyone was getting drunk and the country could sense it, mostly by the high hormones in the air and the slight droop to everyone's mostly strict posture. The slightly buzzed Germany was trying to keep the loopy drunk Italy from taking off his shirt, the totally not drunk Lithuania was trying to keep an overly horny and very drunk Poland from jumping him then and there, and Alfred and England were currently in a battle of wills and shooting down shots like there was no tomorrow.
And there was still no sign of their host anywhere.
Not wanting to see the outcome of the battle between his brother and the Brit, Matthew had decided to get some fresh air and made his way onto the overhanging balcony just above the garden, where the music faded away until the only sound came from the occasional cricket chirping.
Sighing, he rested himself upon the concrete ledge as he looked out over the peaceful, night induced nature, feeling much more at peace out here with no one around then he ever did with so many people surrounding him but unaware of his presence.
It's no way to live, and yet the Canadian dealt with it every day of his life.
Why was he just so invisible to everyone? Was it truly because of the shadow his brother cast over him, even though he was technically older then him by three days? Was it because he was just so weak compared to the other outrageous countries that they just looked over him as if he were a bug they had unknowingly stepped on? Was he unlikeable? Did they ignore him just because he...well, himself?
Would he ever truly be noticed?
Questions like these ran though his head almost everyday, especially on days like this where he arrived at a function and no one sees that he's there. If he were a normal person, he would have just given up on ever being noticed long ago...
But he was a country, and countries don't give up that easily.
Matthew's exhaled breaths came in the form of small clouds emitted from his lips, evaporating almost as soon as he inhaled the fresh air the night had to offer. This calming loneliness was just what he needed, seeing as he had only managed to drink one cup of alcohol and was only ever-so-slightly buzzed. The ice cold air brushing against his face like a feather was a more then welcome sensation to his slightly feverish skin.
All was still...peaceful...quiet.
The Canadian was so at peace with himself that he almost didn't hear the door open behind him, but the tale tell sounds of muted music and clicking of a door knob snapped him out of his little world and cause him to glance over his shoulder at the intruder.
And there, standing tall with the ever intimidating stature of a god, stood Russia with his child-like face showing little to no emotion other then a calm smile which was almost hidden by his dull pink colored scarf.
Was it just him, or did the atmosphere suddenly seem to get colder...?
Matthew watched with wide eyes as Russia sighed and crossed over to the ledgeing a few feet away from him, resting his elbows upon the railing in a much similar fashion to what the Canadian had done. The tall man looked tired and strained, but the smile remained on his face as if he didn't know how to frown. 'Why is he always smiling like that...?' he thought wryly, glancing between the large country and the door inside.
'I should leave,' Matthew thought tentatively, 'Before he notices I'm here...not that he would, anyway.' The man was so deep in thought, it almost seemed as if the Canadian would be intruding on him if he stayed any longer, even if he was here first. Leaning away from the ledge, he started making his way back toward the door, glad that in moments like these he was invisible...
"You don't have to leave."
"In fact, I'd much appreciate the company, da~" Russia glanced over his shoulder to look at the door, or rather Matthew, who was standing in front of the door with his hand on the handle.
"E-eh?" he replied in surprise, his pupils growing wide in shock.
In all the years which the young Canadian had know the Russian, they had never once spoken. Yes, Russia had sat on the boy on multiple occasions, but they never once actually talked to each other. As far as Matthew could tell, the person which he was the most invisible to was the large country. At least with the others he was noticed every once in a while! To Russia though, he was wind. Nothing but empty space which the man could look right through...
"Do not make me repeat myself. I'm sure you heard me, da~?" Russia said, his words sending a chill down the younger's spine.
Hesatenivly, Matthew made his way back to the railing, careful not to stand too close to the Russian nor too far away just in case of angering the scary man. All the while, he felt the intense gaze of his violet eyes on the back of his head causing his face to heat up in embarrassment.
They stood in silence like that for what seemed like days, and never once did the Russian's stare leave the Canadian's face, which would have not bothered him so much if the man had been staring though him and not directly at him.
"W-would you s-stop staring at me like that, e-eh?" the younger country finally said after a few more moments of discomfort, turning his head to weakly glare at the other.
Instead of backing down and looking away, or even apologizing, Russia's smile grew wider, "And why would I want to do that? I like looking at pretty things, and when I see something pretty, I want to just keep looking at it. You like to look at pretty things too, da~?"
Matthew's cheeks flared up as he looked away, unsure of how to reply to such an outright...well, he dared not call it a compliment. "You...You never look at me back at the world conferences," he replied back.
Russia chuckled slightly and finally looked away, causing the boy sigh in relief. "Would you be willing to bet your life on that statement?"
"E-EH!" the Canadian tensed up again.
The Russian sighed, "You should learn that I don't like repeating myself. It gets annoying after awhile, da~"
"O-oh! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to-" Matthew stammered.
"No need to apologize, сладкая моя, I get enough groveling everyday from Latvia..." Russia sighed.
"O-oh..." he looked away again.
Another long pause passed.
"So, er, what are you doing out here, eh? This is your party..." the young Canadian said, desperate for conversation. For some reason, the man became more intimidating as the silence grew.
"Ah, Belarus gets very frightening when she's drunk. Even more so then usual," the country's eye twitched.
"She's the...pretty girl with in the purple dress?" Matthew asked. He had seen the young blonde girl who clung possessively to Russia on many occasions, but as usual, she hadn't seen him.
"Da~, she's very pretty, but very scary," Russia replied, nodding mostly to himself, "I'm just waiting until she drinks enough to pass out, which shouldn't be long since I lost her as I went though the kitchen..."
The Canadian nodded, looking down at his clasped hands shyly. "I-I see..." he mumbled.
"...You fear me," the Russian noted after another lingering quiet.
"N-no! I mean, yes! I-I mean..." Matthew blushed, "I-it's not that I'm s-scared of y-you! It's just uh...why now?" He sent the large man a confused look, "Why are you talking to me now, eh? You didn't even invite me! Why are you suddenly noticing me now, eh?"
The violet eyed male just looked at him, his ever present smile as innocent as a young child's. "I will tell you later, da~? It's getting rather cold out here and you were right when you said it was my party," he said, completely avoiding the question as he made his way back toward the door, "I suggest you come inside too, da~? I wouldn't want you catching a cold out here."
And just like that, Matthew watched as the door closed behind the large Russian, his cheeks tinted red and feeling slightly more disturbed then he did a few minutes ago.
But he had a point. The night air had gotten colder as the night wore on, and the garden's frost covered earth seemed even more lifeless then it was before Russia had appeared.
After Matthew's...strange conversation with Russia, the party seemed continue in a way which was...slightly better then before.
Sure, he got sat again, but at least it was just once this time and not fifteen million times. Granted it was by a horny France who was trying to coax a lap dance out of Romano, who was having none of it and was trying desperately to throw empty bottles at the Frenchman but was held back by Spain who just wanted the little Italian to 'play nice', but it could have been worse...
Through it didn't excuse the fact that it made the Canadian feel very uncomfortable.
It had been a few hours since then, and the party was now dead. No, really, it was dead. Countries littered the floor, passed out from having too much to drink, or just too drunk to move from their spot on the ground. And those few couples who had found their ways to the bedrooms upstairs were probably having a hella good time at that moment.
Among them were England and Alfred who, after a very long and very loud yelling argument, angrily made out and dragged each other upstairs, all the while calling each other profanities and kissing with so much force that it was all teeth and no lips.
Thus, leaving Matthew with no clue who would top and feeling very scarred for life, as he was the more...innocent of the brothers.
It was awkward being the least drunk out of everyone else there, and as Matthew stepped over the sleeping bodies, he really had no idea what to do now. He still had the tiny buzz from the one cup of alcohol he had consumed, but otherwise he felt sober enough to drive home. But he couldn't just leave Alfred and England at Russia's house, since he had arrived with them. Besides, the Brit had the keys, so the idea of driving home for a good nights rest was out. Maybe he could just grab himself a guest room like so many of the others did? That seemed like a good idea, but he really had no interest in looking for an unoccupied room in the midst of so many...occupied ones.
What did that leave him with?
Well, he could always find an empty couch...
Seeing as that idea seemed to be the best option, Matthew wondered the second floor now in search of a loveseat of some sort which he could sleep on. Before entering each room, he pressed his ear close to the door and checked for sounds of breathing or life, which proved half useless since every door he stood before often had breathy pants coming from the other side and every door which didn't was locked.
This was a lot harder then he thought...
After coming to yet another dead end, Matthew was just about ready to give up and sleep on the floor like everyone else, which wasn't a pleasant thought at all. Pressing his ear to the wood of yet another door, he checked for signs of breathing or movement, only to find complete silence on the other side. And, after turning the knob, found the door to be, in fact, unlocked.
Opening the door a crack, the Canadian found that the room was a large office space complete with a roaring fireplace, a large wooden desk, and a VERY comfortable looking couch in front of the fireplace, it's soft white fabric reflecting shadows as the flames danced a few yards away, seducing his eyes and making him feel very sleepy. Opening the door all the way, the young country stepped inside and allowed the door to close behind him as he made a beeline for the couch.
And as he flopped down upon the seat, it was little short of heaven for his tired body.
Closing his eyes and letting out a deep sigh, Matthew was just about ready to fall asleep when he heard a quiet chuckle come from the seat behind the desk which was, until this moment, turned around and facing toward the window behind it.
Gasping with surprise, the boy jumped up from his seat, sitting upright with his violet blue eyes wide in fright as he located the source of the laughter.
And there, sitting behind the desk which Matthew had over-looked in all his sleepiness, sat Russia.
The huge country's eyes were glued to his face almost as much as his ever present smile was, examining the Canadian with amusement from his spot behind the desk. Thus giving the definition to the word 'creeper'.
"Ah! Russia! I-I didn't mean to intrude, I was looking for a couch to sleep on and-" Matthew panicked, about ready to jump up and run if the Russian chose to attack. Though, he would majorly over-powered in the course of an attack, but at least he could attempt to run away...
"I'm glad you have decided to join me, Canada. I was looking forward to having a nice chat with you before the night was through, though I was worried that you had already gone to bed for the night. Which would have been very disappointing for me..." Russia interrupted, his drawn out speech slow and dreamy.
The boy blinked a few times in shock, "E-eh?"
Smiling, the Russian stood from his seat and made his way over to the Canadian on the couch, but not yet choosing to sit. "I believe that I didn't answer a question which you asked me," he said quietly, he voice so gentle that it was terrifying, "You remember the question, da~?"
Matthew stared up at Russia and nodded very slowly, unsure if that was the answer he wanted to hear or not. The man smiled down at him and continued, "Truthfully, Canada, I have noticed you for some time, but just when you haven't noticed me. You understand, da~?"
"Er...no...not really," up until this point, the young Canadian was sure that he had noticed everything that went on whenever he was in the same room as the superpower, including the whereabouts of the man at all times, but apparently...he was wrong?
"I've told you before, Canada. I like looking at pretty things..." Russia now took a seat on the couch, choosing to sit very close to the young boy, "And when I see something pretty, I just want to keep looking at it, even if the pretty thing I want to look at is under the wing of my most hated enemy."
Matthew's cheeks heated up at both the closeness of the Russian, and the strange gaze he had in his violet eyes as he looked at him. "Y-You mean A-America, eh?"
Chuckling, the man placed his large hand upon the boy's cheek, causing the boy's breath to hitch slightly.
"I have no intrest in fighting with the socialist pig, but there is other thing that you should know about me, мой милый мальчик..." Russia's smile turned darker, "When I find something pretty which I want to look at...I wish to posses it."
"W-what does that h-have to do with me, e-eh?" the Canadian stuttered in fear, shielding away from the Russian's huge hand.
"I do not want to start a war with America..." the man said with such frightening intensity that it caused the younger's shoulders to stiffen, "But he currently has relations with something I want...You."
Matthew gaped at the violet eyed man in shock, "M-ME?"
"Canada, I do not like to repeat myself!" Russia said, his voice never rising in volume but rather in menace, causing the Canadian to squeak like a scared mouse. "Now," the Russian said, his face softening, "Listen very carefully, моя мышка." The man grabbed his chin and forced him to look straight into his deep, violet eyes. "I've wanted you for quiet some time, even before the world wars, I believe. You're innocence is very pure, da~, and it makes me ache to know that your brother gets to spend so much time with such a pure soul as yours. It makes me want to take it from him, but not just out of jealousy..." Russia's face brightened up in a smile, "But also because you're very pretty, da~ such pretty hair..." the Russian's other hand brushed a strands of blonde behind the Canadian's ear, "Such pretty eyes..." he caressed his thumb over the corner of the boy's eye socket, "Such a pretty mouth..." he traced the younger's bottom lip, his cold skin making his own go numb, "Just the thought of being able to look at you everyday makes me heart flutter in almost the same way in which seeing the horrified look on Estonia's face does."
Matthew couldn't believe what he was hearing. Beneath all the scary innuendoes and suggestions of some form of torture, this was all a confession right? Of love? Of lust? But the Canadian couldn't help but feel like there was something off about all of this. His heart had never beat so wildly in his chest before, but he couldn't quiet figure out if it was out of fear or...something else. His brother was mentioned multiple times throughout the first part, so maybe it was only to make Alfred jealous...but then that last part confused him so! He called him 'pretty', and no one's ever called him pretty!
No one's ever called him...anything...
What was this?
Coughing, the boy pulled back to get some much needed distance between him and the large Russian, his fluttering heart suddenly making him feel very claustrophobic and uncomfortable. "B-but that doesn't explain why you ignore me and just...sit on me like I'm not there!" he gasped back.
Chuckling, the Russian merely shrugged, "America would have suspected something if I even looked your way, and that would have ruined everything I've worked so hard to plan up till this moment. Which bring me to the next thing, da~"
Matthew watched wide eyed as Russia leaned forward again to that their foreheads were touching, his cold skin felt like ice against his, "Now, after all my patient waiting, I will posses what I've been wanting to posses for long enough."
Before the Canadian could protest, Russia had already pushed his cold lips into his.
The boy froze, unsure of what to do and frightened at the prospect of the hidden meaning of the term 'posses'. He didn't want this, right? Russia, one of the world's most terrifying superpowers, was kissing him! The one person who paid the least attention to him was now going father then any other person had gone before with him... What would Alfred think if he knew he was kissing his worst enemy? He'd kill him! But...For some reason, Matthew couldn't bring himself not to like the kiss.
After a moment of hesitation, he returned the kiss, putting every ounce of affection he never received into it.
Smiling into the kiss, Russia pulled back to allow the Canadian to breathe before having his lips attacked again by the suddenly needy boy, their kiss now turning hungry and greedy. He wrapped his arms around his waist and ran his tongue over Matthew's bottom lip, making him gasp and open his mouth ever so slightly, allowing the Russian to plunge his tongue into the other's mouth. The Canadian let out a slight mewl as their tongues fought each other for dominance, the Russian almost instantly winning the privilege of exploring the younger's mouth. Matthew pulled back as he became lightheaded from the lack of air actually reaching his lungs, starring at the Russian through half lidded eyes. Kissing wasn't enough! Affection, he wanted more affection!
Grabbing his hips, Russia smashed his lips back against the boy's and flipped him onto his back, disconnecting their lips and instead moving them another place on his jaw bone.
"R-Russia..." Matthew whispered, gasping the Russian found a particular sensitive spot on his neck.
In response, the man bit down on the taunt skin, making the boy whimper and bite his lip in sick satisfaction. Russia sucked at the spot, creating a hickey on the cream colored skin, bright red in compression to the parlor of his pale neck.
The boy hissed though his teeth as the other continued to move down his neck, feeling incredibly turned on with every light nip to his throat and every kiss to his pressure points on his otherwise untouched skin. When Russia accidentally, or was it on purpose?, brushed his knee against his crotch, he let out a low moan and bit his lip to keep his voice down. The second time he felt the Russian brush against his crotch he knew it was on purpose, but he still gasped in pleasure at the feel of friction, no matter how small it was. His pants were soon close to being unbearable.
Russia laughed slightly before pulling Matthew's shirt up and over his head, tossing it carelessly to the floor at he took in the half naked sight of the Canadian before him. Smiling, he pressed his thumb into one of the perky nipples and watched as the boy squirmed and bit his lip to silence himself from making any pleasured sounds. This caused the Russian to frown, for he wanted to hear those quiet, sweet noises more then anything. Lowering his head, he swirled his tongue over the pink nub, feeling the way the younger's body jolted in pleasure. He grazed his teeth over the spot and used his other hand to toy with the neglected one, pitching and twisting the nub. This caused the boy to let out a breathy moan and arch his back slightly, his hands making fists as he clawed into the couch's material.
The Russian smiled, pleased with himself as he watched the way Matthew's flushed face twisted and withered in feeling, his eyes closed tight.
"Open your eyes," he commanded gently.
The Canadian obeyed, opening his eyes ever so slightly so that he was merely squinting at the taller country, his panting breaths fogging up the glasses connected to his heated face.
If there was ever a more exotic imagine in the Russian's mind, it was quickly erased by the one below him.
He continued with his ministrations all the way down the boy's chest, biting and kissing his smooth skin as he worked his way to his navel, causing the boy to squirm and moan out inaudible things, probably "no", but Russia preferred to just pretend he didn't hear it. Hooking a finger inside the waistline of the boy's slacks, he pulled them down to his ankles before throwing them to the floor as well. His violet eyes glittered at the sight of the tent forming inside the Canadian's underwear.
Matthew couldn't believe he was getting so turned on so quickly! He just felt so hot and so bothered that he didn't even realize that he was loosing clothing until he had felt the Russian's cool lips against his bare skin...
And it felt just sooooo good!
The Canadian whimpered and moaned at every little touch the ice cold man inflicted upon his heated skin, his hands groping any surface within reach in order to stay planted to the earth. He couldn't think any more, his body refused it, and he was quickly succumbing to the older's will. I didn't matter how many quiet "no"s he moaned anymore, all he wanted was for the heat in his lower stomach to quell.
"Russia..." he whispered, wiggling his hips in discomfort at the problem that was forming down below.
"Ivan," the country replied, his voice cool and crisp as he reached gently started to pull Matthew's boxers down as well.
"Ivan?" the boy blushed as his erection met the fire-warmed air of the room, biting his lip to the point where he felt blood pooling on his tongue to keep himself from making another obscene noise. He liked to believe he had more dignity then that...
Until he felt a single cool finger run up the bottom of his shaft, which made him let out a loud moan at the feeling of being touched in such a vital area.
"My name," Ivan said, griping the boy's erection in one hand and squeezing it. Matthew whimpered and rolled his hips slightly. "You're already so hard, da~!" the Russian teased, running his thumb over the head with a thoughtful expression. "I wonder if you'll scream my name when you come..."
The Canadian blinked when he saw the Russian hold up three fingers in front of his face, followed shortly by a single pump to his erection. A gasp escaped his mouth and before he knew it, the three fingers had thrust themselves into his mouth. "Suck," the older commanded, and Matthew, never actually have had gone to this point before but knew this part was extremely necessary, sloppily ran his tongue over the digits in oder to make them as slick as posable. As if to had encouragement, Ivan pumped his erection a few times more before stoping and pulling his fingers out of his mouth. "That'll do, da~?" he said simply before reattaching his teeth to the boy's bruised neck.
The boy whimpered as he felt the first finger enter his puckered entrance, the feeling uncomfortable, but not yet painful. In fact, after a few moments of the digit wiggling around in there, he absentmindedly started rocking back onto it, making Ivan chuckle and suck on the skin right between his ear and jaw. It was only after the second finger was added that Matthew started feeling the pain. He continued to bite his bleeding and abused lip as he felt the Russian scissor him, stretching him for something bigger.
Tears formed in his eyes as the last digit was added, stretching him for bigger to enter there.
Matthew whimpered as he curled his toes and clenched the sofa, his head whipping to the side in discomfort and pain. However, he didn't close his eyes, but he did bite his lip even harder, filling his mouth with copper flavor.
It was then the Russian touched something inside him that made the boy cry out and arch his back as stars shot in front of his vision.
The still fully clothed Russian smiled and touched the spot again, causing the same reaction to happen to his pleasure endued victim, his moaning ten times louder then it was when he was still trying to deny himself. Ivan leaned down and licked the blood off Matthew's bottom, relishing in the salty copper taste. "Don't bite your lip," he said quietly, enjoying the whimper that escaped from the boy's beaten lips as he removed his fingers from his entrance, "You'll ruin it."
Matthew heard Ivan unzip his pants, since he couldn't really rely on his hazy, lust filled vision anymore. His racing heart jumped when he felt something cold, but throbbingly warm press up against his stretched entrance. He panted in anticipation and stared at the Russian with half lidded eyes. He didn't care any more. He didn't care about how pissed his brother would be when he found out. He didn't care about the fact he was loosing his virginity to half a complete stranger. All that mattered was that now, for the first time, he was the center of attention.
And it felt damn good.
"Please..." he whispered, "Hurry up."
"Da~ If that's what you wish," Ivan said, pushing himself into the small country until he was in as far as he could go.
The Canadian cried out a long, loud moan as he felt himself being torn from the inside out. He grabbed Ivan's shoulders and slammed his eyes shut, his fingers digging into the unshed fabric of his coat, arching his back as he adjusted to the feeling of being so full that it was excruciatingly painful.
"What did I say about keeping your eyes open," Ivan all but growled, his voice taking on a huskier edged now that his throbbing shaft was surrounded by so much warmth.
Matthew took a few deep breaths before opening his eyes again, locking with the cool violet orbs almost instantly with so mush intensity and lust that they widened with shock. "Move," the Canadian said, rolling his hips in desperate need for friction.
Ivan did not need to be told twice. He pulled out all the way and rammed back in so quickly that the Canadian's head spun. The Russian did it again, and again, faster with every thrust and cheered on by the now incredibly vocal moans and gasps emitted from the younger's lips.
Faster and faster they went, every thrust being met with pound coming the opposite way. Ivan quickly found Matthew's prostate after a few moments of searching, making the Canadian have scream with passion. He kept ramming into that spot and grabbed the boy's weeping erection and started pumping it in time with his thrusts, never one to finish without his partner close behind.
Matthew griped onto the man for dear life as he felt himself nearing the end. It was all just too much! The heat in his lower stomach was just so intense that he thought he was going to explode! And the way the Russian's breath tickled the back of his neck with every pant and silent groan...
With a muffled groan, Ivan came deep inside the Canadian, filling his insides with his seed as he rode out his orgasm. With a very loud shout of "IVAN!", Matthew followed behind and came all over the Russian's hand and both their chests.
For a moment, they simply laid there in the afterglow of sex, panting and blushing as a result of the sport they just completed.
"...Russia...?" Matthew whispered, feeling very out of breath and faint before realizing the mess he created on the couch's very expensive looking fabric. "Oh maple! I-I'm sorry!," he panicked, "I-I'll go get some tissue to c-clean that up! Oh, I hope it doesn't stain!"
Just as he was about to use that excuse to leave the room, he felt arms wrap around his waist and pull his naked body to the Russian's clothed chest, making his squeak at the sudden force.
"No, you will stay here with me. After all, you were looking for a place to sleep tonight, da~?" the lager country said, nudging his head into the Canadian's back like a dog looking for some attention, "And since you know my name, I'd like you to call me it...when we are alone, of course."
Matthew blushed and nodded weakly, and used his foot to locate his underwear and pulled it closer to the couch, picking it up and slipping the garment on, all the while with the Russian still attached to his waist.
"Well, now you know my name, you will tell me yours, da~?"
The boy blinked and glanced over his shoulder at the violet eyed man, "Y-You don't already know?" He questioned, and when no response came from the Russian, he guessed it was his way of saying ton continue. "It's Matthew..."
Ivan smiled and laid down on the couch, pulling Matthew down with him, "Matthew~ Such a nice name~" The Russian smiled, "Sleep, Matthew. We have a long day tomorrow..."
"Really?" Matthew blinked, "What makes you say that?"
The Russian chuckled and kissed his shoulder, "You'll see~"
Alfred woke up the next morning with a killer hangover and a headache the size of Texas.
The night before was a drunken blur, but he had a pretty good guess on what had happened since he was currently laying next to a certain bushy-eyebrowed brit who was stark naked and snoring. It didn't come as shocking to the American either, since this wasn't the first time that he had Arthur had gotten into a drunken fit of passion and had sex in someone else's house.
Chuckling, Alfred tenderly ran a hand though the Brit's lemon-yellow hair, watching him stur slightly and roll over so that his back was to him, mumbling something probably along the lines of "bloody wanker". Rolling his eyes, the American decided it was time to go find his brother, kidnap his off-and-on boyfriend's car, and get the hell out of this fortress before the Brit had time to get his hungover ass out of bed.
He gathered his clothing and, after placing a single kiss to Arthur's cheek, Alfred begun his search for his brother, only to find a bunch of other hungover countries still asleep and groaning in pain as they nursed their hangovers.
It took about an half an hour before the American located Matthew.
He opened the door to Russia's office and immediately saw the large lump on the couch near the fire place, covered with a quilt which had sunflowers stitched carefully into it. Alfred tiptoed over to the lump and saw his brother's face peaked out from under the covers, a small smile on his tired face. Grinning, the American shook his shoulder. "Mattie! Hey Mattie! C'mon! We gotta go-"
His jaw dropped when he saw Russia peak out from behind his brother, grinning at him in such a malevolent way that his violet eyes simply glowed in the dark of the office.
"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO MY BROTHER YOU COMMUNIST!"
Ughhhh! Shoot me. O.O
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