RE-POSTED From my old account. Thanks to all who reviewed this story on said old account, my apologies to all those who had Favorited it only to have it snatched back.

…69…

He reached forward and brushed my cheek with a soft skinned, incredibly pale hand. A large one, yes, but one that held grace and beauty as easily as it would hold a glass. Smiling, I let my eyes fall shut and melted into the touch. His fingers caressed the rise of my nose, the contented curve of my lip, the angle of my jaw. They combed lightly through my hair, he pinched my curl neatly between two fingers and toyed with it a little, coiling it around his finger, letting it unravel. I giggled, bubbly and sweet, when he began to loose patience, trying to smooth it down.

He gave up in the end, resuming his gentle play. A stroke here, a wind there. I was sensitive in my curl, apparently, because I could feel his touch humming right down through my core. It seeped down my spine and pooled in the base of my body. It grew squirm-worthy, after a while. Not unpleasant, but enough to make me awkward if he kept it up.

"Uh, Ivan?"

"Da?"

"What are you doing?"

He shrugged and pulled my curl straight, rubbing it from root to tip. I gasped and shivered involuntarily. His eyes widened in shock and he released me. "Oh, Matvey, apologies. Did that hurt?"

"Uh, no." I answered honestly, an intimate blush burning my cheeks. "Not at all."

"Oh." His eyes widened even more as understanding dawned. He is a silent man, but not stupid. And by then he knew me so well that there were times I wondered if he could read my mind. I looked away from him in embarrassment.

"Don't worry. It's nothing."

"It's… okay." He reached for my chin and I let him turn my face to his. Beneath his scrutiny, sharp eyes drinking in every part of my body, I felt my embarrassment fade away. The way he looked at me lifted a lot from my shoulders. Serious, full of emotion so intricate and subtle it couldn't be expressed with words. "May I do it again?"

"… What?"

Had I misheard him? Had I imagined it? No, I definitely saw his lips move, though his expression remained the same. He blinked, fine ash blonde lashes sweeping his cheeks, and slipped his hand carefully to his favored spot, the side of my face. His hands were rough, worked and scarred, but very warm and gentle. The pad of his thumb brushed my bottom lip and I let my eyes flutter shut, the warmth from his hand flowing into me, channeled and beautiful.

And with a rustle, he lent closer. Warmth and softness against my lips, meltingly sweet and angelically tender. His kiss was brief but lingered, the slight wetness, the taste. Hard to understand how only one small kiss can make me as inflamed as I was right then, the flush in my lips and the tingle in my scalp. His hand on my face was almost overwhelming; my awareness of his shirt against my nakedness became delicious, luxurious, and clear. I opened my eyes and meet his again.

"What was that for?"

"You are so beautiful, Matvey."

A breath hitched in my chest and I gave in completely when he lent in again, receiving a slightly more sensual kiss this time. The gentle press of a tongue against my bottom lip, slipping through and tapping at my teeth until I allowed him access. He tasted, unsurprisingly, like vodka and wholegrain bread. Sunflower seeds. And another, musky flavor I didn't recognize.

His tongue slid over mine deftly, prickling the hair on the back of my neck. I felt my curl twitch a little, brushing his forehead, and he shifted his hand so he could keep playing with it, stroking in long, steady strokes.

"Ah… Ivan."

"Da? Shall I stop?" he sat back and studied me solemnly, still playing with that one piece of hair. Blushing, I shook my head and he smiled a truly beautiful smile. Not just a twitch of his lips but a full curve, with even a little tooth.

"Tell me, if you want me to stop."

"Oui." I closed my eyes and gripped his pant leg as he lent over me and took the tip if my curl into his mouth, sucking it ever so softly.

"Ooooh!" my body felt strange, tingling all over. He sucked a little harder, taking in more, then pulled back. The curl slipped from between his lips and I exhaled, chest rising and falling erratically and in quite a state. With fingers as light as feathers he brushed the rest of my hair back off my face, running his fingers through over and over again. And I loved the feeling, heat in my scalp, a soft white warmth at the base of my spine. I let my head tip back and sighed, exultant.

"It feels good, Ivan."

But he didn't reply.

Instead, he moved closer and pressed a small kiss to my throat. And then another. And another. Hundreds of tiny sweet kisses raining down on my throat and neck. I whimpered, and knotted my hands in his hair.

It smelt like honey and sunflowers, so soft and silky between my fingers.

Sighing, I sunk back into the pillows and tipped my head to the side so he had better access to my neck. "Mm… don't stop Ivan." It was strange to hear me say those words. In any other state I would be appalled at myself. Where had I gotten that from? Was I secretly a slut?

It didn't matter at that moment. He was unbuttoning my shirt, sliding a finger down the center of my chest. A tease, an unfair tease. It is cruel, in a delicious way.

But no, maybe not.

His tongue followed swiftly, sliding wetly over my collarbone and trailing partway down my chest. His hands found the edges of my shirt and pushed it open. The cool air immediately hardened my nipples, and he noticed because he raised his head to gaze at them for a moment, before moving over and sealing his lips firmly around one.

A loud gasp when he eased his tongue tenderly over the hardness and swirled around it, just on the edge. My other nipple gently rubbed by the flat three fingers of his spare hand, the wetness of his tongue as he ran the whole thing over in long, languorous laps.

"Is it okay?"

I nodded furiously and tightened my grip on his hair.

"It's good…"

"I guess I will carry on then." That tongue crept across my breastbone to my other nipple, giving it a quick flick before continuing downward, lower, over my stomach. My hips…

I spread my legs as wide as physically possible and propped my self up on my elbows. Why, I don't know. Instinct, I suppose. It caught him by surprise, and astonishingly… he was blushing.

Ivan was blushing.

"Matvey, you seem practiced well at this…"

"I'm not, I swear. I'm sorry, I'll stop." I closed my legs again, actually ashamed of my wanton behavior. "I thought it was what you wanted."

Ivan was silent, caressing my ankle lovingly.

"I never said I disliked it." Eyes fixed on me still, he guided my legs open and kissed the inside of my thigh. Relief flooded me and I fell backwards into the mattress.

Deft fingers traced lines up my thighs, the shorts on my leg being pushed up so far so that soon I could feel his tongue sliding hotly in the intimate hollow between my leg and groin. His fingers slipped up the other leg of my shorts held my underwear out of the way. His tongue played in there, and I groaned aloud.

"Are you uncomfortable Matvey?" he spoke my name in such a gentle, sensual manner I felt my stomach knot at the sound.

"No! Of course I'm not. Please don't sto-ah!" his lips returned to my legs and those fingers holding my underwear aside slipped beneath the cloth, his touch exploring, fingertips running over the usually soft and hidden parts of my body. Unable to reach properly, he lifted his head and slid his hand out, reaching for the waist of my shorts. The grating, spine tingling sound of a zipper, the rustle of cloth being pulled away, down my hips and off my ankles. I pushed off my underwear roughly too, and opened my legs again, wanting to feel him bury his face in between my thighs.

More soft kisses lighting on my stomach, my hips, the warmth of his mouth trailing around my lower body. Gentle sucks administered to the region around my pubic bone, before slowly, he took the very tip of my erection into his mouth and flicked his tongue across it, earning a cry. The sensation was alien, much more powerful than I could have ever imagined. Warmth, glorious heat and comfort, and the pleasant contented tingling that filled me. I dropped my hands to his head, sliding my fingers through his hair again and milking a gentle moan. He sucked a little harder, a sharp jolt of pleasure tingled in my spine and my grip tightened.

Getting used to the sensation wasn't an option. Every time he twitched his tongue, I felt a new feeling, a new warmth.

Gently, he lowered his head, taking more and more of me in, before pulling back up and then down again. Up, down, up, down… sucking me, running his tongue against me. My body arched, squirming, face on fire. I couldn't think, I could barely breathe, and my hips rocked in a small smooth motion in time with his mouth. I moaned in complaint when he pulled all the way off, unable to control my body or my actions. The absence of that heat, the teasing way he left me there with a sweet tenuous coil building in my gut, was cruel. Every muscle in the bottom half of my body was seizing, and I didn't want to let them lax because the tightness felt so good, I wanted more. I wanted to wind it up more, until I snap.

"Is it good, Matvey?" he ran a gentle hand over my hips and I raised them, trying to encourage more, but he ignored my protests, returning to a kneeling position and placing his hands on my knees. If my legs were spread anymore, I would split in two. His eyes combed every square inch of me but I didn't care. I was beyond shame.

Pushing myself up I seized his scarf and jerked him forward, lips clashing violently. He seemed surprised, but took it well, pulling me onto his lap and shifting his kiss from my mouth to my jaw and neck, my shoulders, the pressure of teeth sinking into my flesh. And then I realized I was flush against him, my hardness sandwiched between the two of us twitched when I felt his body move against me.

The need to rut on him was instinctual, rubbing my body against his cotton clad chest. He encouraged me, guiding my hips with his hands. It wasn't as good as being in his mouth, but rubbing myself against him was still good. Incredibly good.

In a haze of horniness, I tightened my grip on his scarf and threw my head back, eyes closed in rapture. I'd never felt so amazing before, his name was all I could think of, panting to him from my chest.

Ivan, Ivan, Ivan…

"Matvey…" his pull on my hips became rougher, and we tumbled backward so that I was on top. I pressed his shoulders back and adjusted to the new rhythm quickly, thoughtlessly. It felt so good. This felt so good I thought I would die.

"Matvey, you're so beautiful."

Unable to respond, I kissed him again, and he allowed it. His tongue in my mouth was silky and warm; it traced my teeth and slid over mine so sweetly.

I was close. Oh god I was close. Just a few more and I would be released; I could feel the pressure in my lower body building to a peak. Just a little more…

He pushed me away, pulling himself into a kneeling position with his legs tucked beneath him.

"Ivan! No, what are you-" tears welled in my eyes and I wiped them away roughly. Just a little more! Why couldn't he have let me just a little more?

"Shh… calm down." He kissed me, being careful to avoid coming into contact with my body, loosening his scarf as he spoke. "It's not fair, you know, if you are the only one." His hands slid my shirt off my shoulders, winding the scarf around my neck. "What about me? Can't you do something for me?" he unbuttoned his shirt and cast it off.

For a split second I was distracted by all the scars marring his body, slightly whiter than the skin around them, they were somehow incredibly arousing. My hand flew to my mouth and my eyes widened, he undid his pants calmly and slid them off too, revealing his whole body to me. His whole, gorgeous body.

With a gentle, imploring touch as he pulled me back to him, I wound my arms around his neck and kissed him blindly. He was big. I'd never realized before how huge he was. And he was warm. God he was warm.

"Ivan…" my breathless kiss found his lips, his hands caressed my waist and the hardness of his dick rubbed against my stomach. It was a wonderful thing, knowing that he wanted me. Empowering, and incredibly cherished. And all I wanted was to hear him call my name. Somehow, the blinding physical need surging through my body was silenced by the calm voice inside me that said 'please him'. Somehow, in a moment of rarest and absolute realization that no matter what happens I will always have this moment, I pulled away and dropped my head to his lap, pulling him into my mouth with the tip of my tongue.

The taste of his warm skin was comforting, I felt a rush of affection and awe for the human body before me, before sliding off and running my lips along him, sucking on the tip and rubbing my tongue around beneath the skin there. A gentle groan rewarded me, and a trembling hand toyed with my curl a little, rebuilding the waning tension in my abdomen. I tried again, this time a small trickle of salty, yet inexplicably sweet liquid flowed down the tip. I sucked it up and flicked my tongue, hungry for more.

Somehow, he remained silent, though I could certainly feel the restraint he was using to keep himself in check. The tight, excited quivering of his thigh muscles, the trembling hand caressing my hair. I could actually taste him holding back on me. It wasn't fair. I ran my hands up his legs, trying to ease the tightened muscles, but he resisted even more. A glance upward, his eyes are closed and fluttering, his lips pressed into a firm line. Though he breathes through his nose, it is irregular and heavy. All these things, these wonderful little signs, tell me that he's beginning to crack, but I need to up the level a little if I wanted to really make him scream.

A deep breath, I kept my eyes fixed on his face, and I took him all the way in, until he hit the back of my throat.

"Ah!"

My heart leapt at the reaction, hands flying to his hips to prevent his upward thrust from choking me, and I slid back off before repeating. The sight of his lips parted in bliss, eyes half cast and glassy, was even more beautiful than the orchard in summer, even more beautiful than the sunrise in spring. It was the most beautiful thing in the world.

I closed my eyes, trying to impress the vision on to the inside of my eyelids forever, and tried again, this time his whole body shuddered, buckling forward he grabbed my head roughly and pulled my face up so I was looking at him, simultaneously feeling a warm heated something splatter my face and hair. It didn't bother me though, his expression of desire and adoration sent shivers down my spine, the focus of his eyes as he came, his flushed lips forming my name, even the flush mounting the bridge of his nose, was enough to set me on fire inside, lighting passions I didn't know I had.

Licking his cum off my lips I threw myself at him, straddling his hips and placing cummy kisses all over his face and neck. He let me, kissing back in that way that wasn't a kiss so much as it was a desperate tongue trying to pull as much between lips as physically possible. We tumbled around, tangled in a fit of lust and heated, feverish ardor.

And before I had registered what had happened, he had my legs forced apart again, my hips pulled up and his face nestled between my legs, nose pressing to my testes, breath warming a part of me that I hadn't noticed until that exact moment I desperately wanted him to lick.

"Do you want me to stop?"

"No! Keep going, I love it!"

"It feels good?"

"Yes! Oh god Ivan yes!" I wrapped my legs around his shoulders, frantically clutching his dirtied scarf around my neck. My mouth tasted like him, my head was spinning, and my back arched rigidly when the very tip of his tongue pressed at me, carefully nudging inside my body. It was hot and wet, and slid easily inside with the aid of my pre-cum. God I was wet, my lower body felt like I'd been in a pool, slick with sweat and spit and natural lube, but I liked the feeling. No, I loved the feeling. It was heavenly.

"oh Ivan…" my breath was snatched fugitively now, the air that seemed to be heating and thinning from our love making no longer seemed so wiling to give its self up to my lungs. He moaned and slid his tongue out, before plunging back in and wriggling around. I gasped. It wasn't quite enough. Not quite.

"More…" I managed to whine, throwing my head back in a frenzy of need. "p-plea-se."

He responded by slipping a finger inside me, but I barely noticed. Another cry for more received two more fingers, and this time I noticed, though the dull ache as he slid them in faded as soon as he began rubbing, stroking the inside of my body and hooking them in, searching…

"Yes!" I practically screamed in excitement when he found it, wringing his scarf so tight around my hand it could have cut off circulation. "That's the spot. There, that's- just there." His touch in that place was dizzying, like a lightning bolt through my core. Cautiously he reached for it again and gently rubbed in a small circular motion, wringing an agonized moan from my throat. It was like a magic button, enough to reduce me to a pile of exultant goo.

"oh Ivan… yes. That feels good."

"Shall I keep going, or can I try something else?"

"No, please keep- ugh, don't stop. Don't. Stop. Ah!" he pressed a little harder, and a new flood of pre-cum flowed down my dick, trickling in streams down my body. I struggled to kneel, he moved, allowing me, and I wrapped my arms around his shoulders so I could sink onto his fingers. More pre-cum, it wet the sheets, streams of it glistened on his writs and I watched in fascination what I could, his wrist visible but not the hand that he was pleasuring me with.

"Don't look at that." He mumbled, kissing my ear. "Look at me, Da?" more soft kisses to my face, his forehead pressed to mine and I held his gaze, breathless with pleasure and getting closer and closer. His eyes were endless, soft and full of compassion, his finger still working in me became a little rougher, and I gasped, eyes fluttering closed. He kissed each lid softly, mumbling gentle words and calmly working me toward release. I pulled closer. Wrapping my whole self around him, mounting his lap and forcing his fingers deeper into me.

"you're crushing my hand." A gentle whisper, I shook my head in denial but he moved his fingers anyway, sliding them out and running his touch along the side of my leg. The emptiness was unbearable, and once again he had left me teetering just on the edge.

"I-van!" I sobbed and buried my face in his neck. Sweat joined the smell of vodka on his skin. "Please let me-"

"Okay, okay, calm down." He adjusted himself and shifted my hips a little, my grip on him tightened when I felt the return of something pressing to the twitching place on my body, the desire to thrust down and impale myself enough to drive me mad. "Wrap your legs around me."

I obeyed his orders and he drew a breath, releasing his grip and leaving me to my own devices.

Without thinking twice I let myself fall onto his dick, burying him deep in my body. He clawed his nails on my back, but made no sound. I raised myself up and slid back down again, the relief of having something inside unbelievable. My lips sealed against his neck, coaxing a soft groan, I pushed him backward and he grabbed the ends of his scarf, pushing his hips up and meeting me mid thrust.

"I wouldn't ha-have picked you as a d-dominant sort, Matvey."

I shook my head, eyes squeezed shut, far beyond speaking capacity. My hair stuck to my damp forehead, I was coming. Definitely now I was coming. The feeling rattled through me with all the heavy energy of a steam train, but it was still getting better. It was still getting better. My lips parted in a loud keen, and heat pierced me when I felt him jerk upward, a fresh wave of sticky white filling me up and pouring out from between my legs. He had came hard inside of me, and he rode it out with his head thrown back, a pained expression of absolute ecstasy on his face. I didn't even notice when I ejaculated, the only sensation that registered was of all my seized muscles releasing in undulating clenches and shivers, my body folding forward, face buried in his chest. I screamed, I could feel it pulsing through me and from me in an endless ribbon of sound, but no-one was around to hear so it didn't matter. He was still pushing me, still pounding into me, and I kept riding him until every last explosion of pleasure has faded, and every last drop of cum had been expelled from my body.

He groaned and lay still. It takes me a while to catch my breath.

"Ivan?"

"mmm?"

"You…" wordless, filled with a wonder and adoration that threatened to burst out of me and dance on its own accord around the room, I pulled myself up so our noses met. The back of my neck still tingled, my hands shook. He licked his lips and watched me, the constant expression of calm returned to his features, I let the tears prickling behind my eyes clean my face, and he pulled me to him in a gentle, sweet kiss. My arm wound around his neck. He was still inside me, no longer huge and unyielding but certainly welcome and pleasant.

Our kiss deepened, intensifying, tongues tangled, I knew my body was tired but my mind wasn't. My mind will never be tired, I want to make love like this forever, all night long without stopping, until I'm ravished and unable to even lift my head, bathing in cum and sleeping for the rest of my life in his arms.

I could feel from the response of his body, the sudden push of his hips back into mine and the stretch that means he is hardening within me, that he wanted this too.

Birdsong, a rough hand shakes me awake, I groan and bury my face further in the pillow..

"Go away… " I grumble, reveling in the afterglow of my dream.

"Wake up Mattie! Today is our first day at the meetings. Don't you want to say hello to all the other nations?"

I raise my head, weary, half asleep, trying to remember whatever I had been dreaming.

"What do you mean?"

"England said that we can go to the meeting because its here today and come on, come on! We don't want to be late. Germany and France have already arrived and- oh. Wow Matt!" Alfred's face is a perfect picture of disbelief when he pulls back my sheets and sees the wetness spreading across them. I blush furiously and wrestle them back up, to cover me.

"Ew, that's nasty! What fifteen-year-old still wets the bed"

"I didn't wet the bed!" my blush is growing more pronounced. What had I done then, exactly? The feeling of warm sticky sheets is… unpleasant.

"Oh… wait till I tell England!" my brother laughs and points at me. " in front of France and everyone else too! Haha, bet you can't stop me!"

He dashes out of the door.

Horror paralyzes me for a moment, I have to fight hard through it to get out of bed and chase after him. Stumbling to the door, not having time to change out of my underwear, I pursue my brother down the hall recklessly, it is a matter of life and death, he must not get to England first.

"Alfred!" I scream, dashing down the main hallway toward him. He laughs obnoxiously, turning the corner, and I speed up.

My thin legs have never carried me so fast, my heart has never been so high in my throat. This tragedy unfolding before me! I had not wet the bed! I hadn't! I try not to think of what exactly I had done. I'm not sure yet which is worse.

I see the man to late.

He comes through the door like anyone else, stepping inside and shaking snow out of his hair. I try to stop, I hold out my arms in front of me and scream, but by the time he looks up I am already colliding, crashing head on into his chest.

He catches me, and holds me there for a short moment, to let me catch my breath.

"And who are you?"

His voice is oddly familiar, deep and heavily accented. His hold on me releases and I wobble backward, head still spinning from the collision.

"Uh… I'm Cana… da."

The man is positively huge. Tall, wearing a big tan coat and a scarf large enough to drown in, I worry for a moment if he might crush me or kill me for running flat on into him.

"Canada?" he arches a fine, grey blonde eyebrow and surveys me through wide, violet eyes. His hair is pale and damp, his cheeks darkened with cold. "Are you England's other one?"

I nod, face darkening, staring at the mans shoes.

"Well I'm pleased to meat you then, young Canada. I'm Russia, but call me Ivan. I hope we can be good comrades in the future."

Ivan…

Wide eyed, swallowing anxiously, I look at the man again, his pleasant smile unnerving me, prickling the hair on the back of my neck. For some reason, unrelated to the cold, I feel my nipples stiffen, my lips flush, and a tiny shiver tickles the base of my spine.

When I remember that I am more or less naked, I could happily die.

I settle for a shocked cry instead, before turning around and dashing back the way I came, leaving Ivan standing alone and thoroughly perplexed in the foyer.

fin...

kk. I don't own any of the characters in hetalia, or anything cool like that. All I own is a perverted brain and far to much spare time. Sigh…