MOAR PWP. I will write things of quality soon, don't worry.
How is this only the third time I've written RusAme sex? What is going on?
He'd told Ivan that he was too pale, damn it, you gotta get a little color! So when his boyfriend expressed interest to visit America on leave from Russia, Alfred knew the perfect place they could spend time.
He remembered the look on Ivan's face when they had pulled up to the tiny little beach house that sat mere yards from the white sand of the shore. It had been a cross between surprise and annoyance. But it hadn't fazed the excited young American at all.
Because Alfred had been determined to make Ivan enjoy the beach, whether he liked it or not.
But, of course, the Russian had been too fucking stubborn, and was insistent, according to Alfred, upon being the biggest stick in the mud in the entire damn universe.
He had worn his scarf, his fucking scarf, to the beach. And not only that: even with Alfred's exuberance and encouragement, Ivan had taken to just sitting on a reclined beach chair, nose deep in the hard cover book in his hand, licking his fingers and quietly flicking the pages. Periodically Alfred would come back from splashing in the waves or making sandcastles and try to convince the pale man to get up and play some frisbee with him, slopping layers of assurance that it would be fun, come on Vanya but Ivan would simply give him a skeptical look and return to his book. Soon, Alfred gave up on trying completely and instead ran off to go play a round of beach volleyball with the locals.
A round quickly turned into a full on tournament with a chorus of playful insults and a cheering section and before Alfred knew it the sun was beginning to tuck behind the horizon. Exchanging laughs and smiles and slaps on the back with his knew found friends, Alfred said goodbye and raced back to where he had left the Russian.
However, when Alfred say his boyfriend, he had to clap a hand over his face to stifle a noise that was a cross between a gasp of horror and a giggle.
Ivan sat slumped on the beach chair, red as a Maine lobster, lying asleep with his book splayed across his neck.
Once Alfred finished stifling his titters he had tentatively shaken the Russian, who awoke with a loud hiss and a groan. Then of course, was the painful and eerily silent stumble back to the beach house.
That had been earlier in the day. Now, Alfred was sitting on the edge of the king-sized bed inside the beach house. He had on a long, loose white T-shirt and his patriotic, and flag-patterned swim trunks. He shifted on his bed and watched his boyfriend, who was uncomfortably nestled in the sheets next to him
His boyfriend, who was now lying on his back in the little room they shared, face twitching in pain, every inch of his skin red as the borscht he'd always tried to feed Alfred.
It was pretty funny, Alfred admitted to himself, seeing Russia, who normally looked carved out of marble or snow or something, lying immobile on the bed, red as a brick. He couldn't help it—he let out a little snort of laughter. Ivan instantly turned his head and glared at his young lover.
"Next time you visit my country, I am locking you out in the snow until your fingers turn black and fall off," Ivan growled.
"Hey, don't be like that," Alfred pulled out the bottle of aloe and squeezed a large blob out into his palm. It was sticky and felt good.
Ivan winced a little as Alfred put a glob of the greenish gel on his chest, smoothing it out over his stomach and onto his shoulders. Alfred gulped a little. Ivan felt really, really good, especially with the coat of the gel-
He ducks his head as he blushes a little bit.
He had hoped that maybe the little vacation could finally allow them to be "together," what with Ivan seeing him all tanned and hot and shirtless every single day.
Alfred sighs in dejecting, his shoulders slumping.
Well, that idea was shot.
Or was it?
Alfred perked up a bit.
Ivan had been wearing his pants when he was sunburned, so that meant that certain—areas—were unharmed
Alfred gives a wide smile. He's a genius!
He quickly slips off his swimming trunks and casts them on the bed, cheeky smile on his face. Ivan raises an eyebrow at him and turns his head a little, eyes falling to his lover's bare lower half.
"What are you doing?"
Alfred meets eye contact with him as he takes his currently limp dick into both of his gel-covered hands, shuddering at the cool feeling but still giving his Russian boyfriend a tantalizing smirk.
Ivan's eyes widen as Alfred begins to stroke himself with both hands, coercing his member into hardened life.
Alfred pulls his shirt up and off one shoulder, exposing his chest. Lifting one slicked hand from his dick, Alfred trails his palm up his chest and finds one of his own nipples, testing and teasing and rolling it between his fingers, his face flushing as he begins to pant at the doubled stimulation.
Ivan's muscles tense at the salacious sight, and he can feel himself begin to stir underneath the thin fabric of his shorts. The little twitch doesn't miss Alfred's eyes, and he smirks wider, speeding up his pace and shifting on his knees so that Ivan gets a full frontal view.
He lets out a few more gratuitous moans as he works over the tender skin of his cock, swirling the excess gel around the head.
"Alfred," Ivan lets a pale tongue sweep across his lips, "Is there a point, to this?"
Alfred laughs a little and grins brightly at his incapacitated lover, as well as the suddenly noticeable bulge in the crotch of his shorts.
"Mmm. I think you know the point."
Soon Alfred was straddling Ivan, on his knees above the Russian's pelvic area, hands trailing in a playful dance over his own hips and stomach before falling to Ivan's shorts and yanking them down, exposing the Russian's already erect cock. Alfred smiles, letting a slick pinky finger run slowly up the length
Ivan shivers and tries to move, but his burnt skin moved up against the sheets, and he hissed.
"Alfred, I can't—"
"Don't worry," The American winked at him, "You don't have to move at all. Just let me take care of it, huh?"
Alfred puts his other slimy hand beneath him and, making sure Ivan has a full view, slips in one slicked finger with a low whine.
"Alfred—" Ivan growls warningly, though he can no longer deny that he's enjoying what the American nation is doing. Said nation let a cool, gelled hand travel up Ivan's stomach, soothing and sensual at the same time.
"C'mon. I'll make you feel better," Alfred's smile continues to grow, though it was punctured with flinches of pleasure as he continued to work and stretch himself with a second finger. He was no newbie at this, but still-Ivan was big.
He couldn't tell if Russia was blushing or not because of the burn on his cheeks, but he was staring intently at Alfred, his throat bobbing in strained swallows. Oh yeah. He was enjoying it.
A loud moan pulled from Alfred's throat. Three fingers should be enough—should.
Though, even if it wasn't, it wouldn't bother the American nation all that much.
Alfred would never admit it to anyone, but he absolutely loved the feeling of being stretched out. Being pushed out and pulled apart by something big and intrusive was the most insanely wonderful feeling in the world. That was why sex with Ivan was so incomparable: he wasn't only big, he was the biggest. Alfred's own fingers were all right but nothing compared to being stretched by that fantastic cock until he felt almost like he would split in half—Alfred shudders in anticipation and reluctantly pulls out his digits.
Not wanting to wait anymore he slicks down Russia's pelvic area with the aloe, even though it's the only part of his body not burned. He takes a gel-covered hand and rolls it up Ivan's length, eliciting a shudder and a groan from the large Russian.
Alfred eagerly positioned himself above the Russian nation's erection, pressing up a little against the still-tight entrance.
"Alfred," Ivan growls, voice hoarse with need at the frustration of that barest sensation.
"Yeah, yeah, I know," Alfred moves a little, rubbing the cock against his hole a little bit before starting to lower himself and push down.
He squeezes Ivan's hips lightly as the Russian tries to buck up into him and dig further inside. America scowls and bites his knuckle at the stinging pain.
"F-Fuck you, Vanya! You call me impatient?" Ivan stops, cocking his head with that damned innocent smile. Alfred counters him with a pout.
Though, Alfred slides in rather easily thanks to the copious amount of gel slicking both parties, pausing for a moment with a meager part of Ivan's dick inside him. He grins, tantalizing teasing the Russian, planning to take his time to sink Ivan into him and make his boyfriend squirm, just a little bit.
But, apparently the Slavic nation was tired of Alfred's teasing. The American had told Ivan not to move but the Russian, ignoring the pain of the sunburn, lifted up his arms and grabbed tightly onto Alfred's hips, pulling him down the rest of the way. Alfred lets out a low wail, fisting his hand into his hair as he is forced to be penetrated by all the length Ivan's dick.
"Do not be teasing me, dorogoy," Now Ivan is smiling, while Alfred's face is blushing as he pants and groans at the sudden intrusion and movement.
"Now move," Ivan settles his stinging arms back to his sides, eager now to just watch and feel.
"W-wait a second," Alfred groans as he squirms, trying to adjust to the sudden thick girth inside him. He puts his hands on Ivan's chest for support as he heaves, curling his toes into sheets below the both of them.
Ivan growls and writhes at the touch, and Alfred remembers exactly where his hands are. Letting out a squeak, he draws away from Ivan's scorched chest.
"I'm sorry—Ahh!" Alfred rocks back with the movement, unintentionally causing the dick inside of him to rub harder up against his insides.
He pants out between gritted teeth, fingers looping through his hair.
Alfred adjusts himself further on top of Ivan, until he has enough leverage to push himself up on the Russian's length until only the head remains inside, then letting gravity sink him back down.
He rolls his hips as Ivan moves up with limited, pained thrusts. It's a little awkward and unwieldy, and Alfred hisses in pain whenever Ivan shoves into him in an uncomfortable manner, but pushes through it because of the simultaneous pleasure of being filled and stretched so fucking wide fuck fuck fuck.
He needs more though, especially given that they were short a usual pair of hands.
Alfred fumbles with the discarded bottle of aloe and squirts some more of the greenish gel onto his hands, trailing one hand up his stomach and torso while the other travels downwards. He begins to touch himself again in time with his and Ivan's thrusts, running his fingers along his shaft and flicking at the dripping head.
Oh God, fuck, I'm gonna—
Alfred moans, his back arching as he cums all over his hand and Ivan's stomach. The buck of Alfred's hips and the clenching spasms of his muscles make Ivan cum mere moments later, ignoring the pain of the blistering sunburn as he shifts and curls his fingers and toes in the sheets.
Alfred grips onto his own dick until he's completely spent, shivers of heart roiling up and down his spine in the aftermath. He sits there more a few moments, listening to both his and Ivan's breaths bounce off each other.
Alfred's legs have turned to jelly, making him unable to move himself off the seat on Ivan's hips. He can't even muster enough strength to lift up and pull Ivan's spent cock out of him. Alfred wants to just flop down on top of his lover and lie there, but he knows that the Russian is still hurting from his sunburn.
He lets out a frustrated whine at his dilemma. Damn it, and he liked to cuddle after sex too!
Alfred squirms around on top of Ivan, hoping that maybe the Russian would stop basking in his own orgasm the selfish comic and help him out.
"I-Ivan, I can't get off—"
The older nation lets out a dismissive hum and opens his sated eyes a sliver, fingers brushing idly against Alfred's quivering thigh.
Alfred stops shifting.
The Russian cocks his head. Alfred's follows to the gesture to the bottle of gel still lying half spilled over the bedsheets.
"Put it on yourself."
Alfred turned back to Ivan, eyebrows raised at the demand.
Ivan's hand left Alfred's thigh to finger into the cool pool amidst the sheets, rubbing a little over his thumb.
"Put it on your chest and stomach. Then you will be able to lie on me."
Alfred was confused for a moment before he snapped his fingers, bobbing up and down a little happy that his boyfriend had solved the cuddling conundrum.
"D-Dude, you're a genius." And a mind reader too, apparently.
Alfred uses all of the remaining gel to coat his body, covering his chest and belly and even his arms and hands for good measure. Finally satisfied with the sticky and cooling coat, Alfred shifts forward and lies himself down on top of Ivan, the limp Russian finally slicking out of him with a wet pop.
"G-gross," Alfred laughs as he felt something drizzle out of his ass, "Fuck, I should clean up or something."
Ivan hums and brushes his cheek against Alfred's gelled neck.
"Nyet, you will do no such thing," Ivan is quite enjoying the cool feeling of Alfred's slicked-up body against his scalded skin.
Alfred lifts his head a little and puts two gooey hands on Ivan's red cheeks, rubbing his thumbs over the Russian's peeling nose.
"The beach is not so, bad, huh?" Ivan snorts and lifts up his arms a little to rest on Alfred's sticky sides.
"If we are ever being in a standoff again, I will be destroying your Western states first."
Alfred moves to smack Ivan's arm, but then though better of it and simply pokes his nose, "Dude, don't even joke about that."
Ivan chuckles and pulls up his head as much as he can, finally kissing the American on the lips.
"Even if I may not like the beach, Alfredka is making it not so bad," Alfred snakes his arms under Ivan's head, and the Russian lies back into the pillow of Alfred's hands, "I think that this trip is not terrible after all."
Alfred smiles and rests his head into the crook of Ivan's neck and reminds himself to restock on aloe vera the very next chance he gets.
Thanks for reading! :)