I forget where this story started in my head, but I'm proud of how it turned out. Originally it was headed into a direction where Ivan brought Alfred into his room for the smex, but I didn't like how it was going. Then I decided to make two versions, one with Alfred getting off in the hallway and one with smex. But while writing the first version, it came about that I could have my cake and eat it, too. So I'm happy with it.
I do not own Hetalia and please enjoy!
Alfred watches the way Arthur and Francis fight avidly, eyes hooded and intent on the other two. The way they glare, the way they sweat, the way they bleed.
His sky blue eyes are trained on them as they dance the fighting dance around the meeting room. No one cares to stop them, as usual, and he's glad for it. Nothing is as mesmerizing to watch as two people of decently matched strengths fighting.
He couldn't watch when someone much stronger picked on a weaker opponent. Those fights just brought up a righteous need to protect the one getting pummeled; to be a hero and save the day just in the nick of time.
When it was two fighters of equal standing though...well, it got his blood pumping in a way totally not heroic.
He hadn't realized it about himself until the one time he'd watched a fight break out on TV during a football game and he'd popped a woody right there during Sunday night football. That footage had gotten him hot and bothered nearly as fast as his favorite porno.
Now that he'd discovered this side of him he was somehow even more aware of all the fighting that went on around him. Constant verbal brawls and plenty of physical ones, too.
At nearly every meeting.
Not a single one went by where Alfred didn't end up getting an erection at least once, if not a million times more. It had gotten so ridiculous that he'd just given up trying to control it and resigned himself to constant blue balls whenever Francis or Arthur locked eyes with each other.
"Al?" Mathew's voice broke in and Alfred's gaze flicked to him, body not moving. If he stood up it would be painfully obvious that he wasn't paying attention to politics at the moment. Or the whole world would think he had some pretty weird kinks.
Which, well, considering he got a boner every time Arthur pulled Francis' hair and made the Frenchman squeal for mercy, it wasn't such a far off observation if they were to make it.
"Yeah, Mattie?" He smiled brightly at his brother and tried to ignore the raging hard on in his pants that demanded him to shove his hand under the table and give it some much needed love. He'd deal with it later, like he always did.
"Why are you staring at them fight?" Mathew asked, head tilting slightly and face appearing angelic and sweet. It made Alfred feel kinda bad getting his kicks out of something so violent. Not that he could help it but still.
"Just wondering how they can do that every single meeting and not get tired of it." Alfred replied easily, shrugging a shoulder. It was the truth, somewhat. He'd thought the same in the past at least. Back before it became material for him to jerk off to later in the night.
"Ah." Mathew looked towards his papa and Arthur, nodding his head slightly. He'd thought the same thing plenty of times himself. Though he was a little suspicious; why would Alfred be licking his lips like that if he was thinking such normal thoughts?
Before the Canadian could ask him anything more about the topic Germany forced his way into the skirmish and broke it off, sending both countries to their seats before ending the meeting with the usual threats and reminders.
The countries all shuffled out, heading for their respective hotels and subsequent hotel rooms. America was one of the last ones to go, having waited until Florida calmed down enough that he could walk decently.
Almost as soon as he was out of the doors he was grabbed by the wrist and yanked off course, carried off down a hallway before Alfred remembered he had superstrength and didn't have to be dragged anywhere he didn't wanna be.
"What the hell man!" He yelled as he suddenly broke the hold, stopping them in the middle of the hallway. Them being him and Russia, now that he looked. Just what the hell did the commie want with him now? "What's your problem?"
"Nothing." Ivan replied smoothly, giving his usual creepy smile and childish giggle. He folded his hands behind his back and dropped a portion of the facade; eyes narrowing with intrigue and arms tensing a little in anticipation. "I just noticed you have been watching the other nations more closely as of late."
Suspicious, Alfred gave a short nod. "Yeah...so?"
"Watching when they are fighting each other in particular." Ivan went on, smile widening and somehow darkening. His violet eyes sparkled with delight when the tanned American paled slightly. "You also avoid leaving the room whenever a fight breaks out now."
"So what?" Alfred said defensively, visibly bristling at the older nation and his words. He crossed his arms and looked up at the taller man with an annoyed expression. "Why do you care if I'm watching them or not? They always fight."
"Da. But you always laugh at it or try to break it up." Russia leaned down, eyes wicked and lips parting just a little. "Now you just sit back and watch them with the most erotic expression on your face. It's like you want to fuck both parties into the nearest surface and you still wouldn't be satisfied."
"What!" Alfred took a step back, the quick flash of horror from being discovered eclipsed by his lightning fast defenses. "That's not true, you fucking commie bastard! I would never think that!"
"Oh?" Ivan stepped closer, pleased to have gained ground. His tongue ran across his upper lip, slow and sensual while violet eyes hooded; just like Alfred's had earlier. "So you don't get a thrill down your spine when you see England and France fight?"
Feeling the slightest tightening in his low belly from that, reminded of what he'd been watching earlier, Alfred quickly shook his head. The blush on his cheeks gave away what his words hid. "N-no! No way dude! Why would I get turned on watching the frog fight that old man, huh? You're crazier than people say!"
"Mm." Ivan pressed the issue, moving even closer to the American. "You are totally unaffected watching them rip each others clothing off, clawing at each other?"
Shivering and flushing hotter, Alfred began to slightly panic when he felt Florida stirring in his pants. No no no! He couldn't get turned on from what Russia was saying to him!
"Arthur's a pansy! He's barely manlier than France! There's no way a hero would be attracted to two people like that getting into a cat fight!" He denied fervently, unknowingly backing up when Russia advanced until he was pressed against the wall of the hallway and had two large hands planted to either side of his body, caging him in.
"What were you thinking about today," Russia leaned in, purring the words against America's ear. He smirked at the shiver he earned from that and continued in a throaty whisper. "when France managed to give Arthur a split lip, hmm? It dripped down all over his bare chest and smeared on his clothing, didn't it?"
Barely suppressing a whimper from the visual image and the longing it evoked from deep within his being, America gave a short, negative jerk of his head. "I-I wasn't thinking anything! Get away from me!"
"Nyet." Ivan nuzzled the back of the American's jaw, tipping the man's glasses askew with his nose and giggling when it obviously annoyed the other. He blew into his ear. "I know what you think about. I can see it in your eyes."
"Oh yeah?" Alfred's voice was slightly shaky and hardly challenging or confident. He licked his lips, flushing when he felt Ivan's leg slide between his own and against his swollen vital regions. He wiggled a little, intent on escaping, but only succeeded in producing a delicious friction.
"Mmm." Ivan brought his hands down, trailing across Alfred's body before settling on his hips. He tugged, dragging the smaller male forward and forcing him to grind against his thigh. He could feel America's erection against him and knew just how much his words were affecting the younger nation.
"That's not an answer!" America whined, a dark blush covering his features as his body seemed to take on a mind of its own and he began to gently squirm on top of the bigger nation's leg. It just felt so good; warm and thick and perfect against his trapped arousal. God if only Iggy could see him now...
That thought made him whine again; squirming harder.
"I wasn't aware of there being a question." Ivan cooed, smirking as the blond's small movements elongated into steady rocking, rubbing against him like a cat in heat and making the cutest noises under his breath and between words when he spoke.
"I was only aware..." The Russian leaned in, nuzzling against the American's neck before trailing kisses all the way up to his golden hair. He lipped the stubborn cowlick Alfred sported and was pleasantly surprised to feel the involuntary squeeze of slender, well muscled legs and a telltale twitch from the blond's groin. "Of how you react to the sight of blood on your enemies."
"Nnngfuck...not...true..." Alfred whined and squirmed, mewling softly when hot breath played against his ahoge and the warm limb between his thighs tensed, giving him an even better surface to shamelessly thrust against. He panted softly and shut his eyes tight, wishing the larger nation hadn't gone straight for his erogenous zone. He might have had a fighting chance if not for that! "Fuckin' commie..."
"Don't lie to me." Russia bit the top-edge of Alfred's ear, lips curled and tone husky. He let go of the tender skin and leaned up to breath against the curl of sensitive hair he'd discovered. "Don't lie to yourself, either."
"Fuuuuck you!" Alfred keened softly and ground harder against Ivan's leg, toes curling within his shoes from the heady sensation. There was too much going on to his body at the moment and he could hardly stand it.
"Admit it." Ivan commanded against America's ahoge, hands clamping down to keep Alfred pinned and unable to move. The desperate little mewl that came out of the blond immediately after made his cock twitch eagerly. He squeezed slender hips and traced the pads of his thumbs across his waist, tickling under clothing. "You love to watch the way they hurt each other. Your eyes never leave a fight once it breaks out."
"No, just...no...you know...the fighting..." America bit his lower lip and quivered on top of the Russian's leg, his heavily throbbing erection sending an insistent Morse code of pure need straight to his brain. He took a shuddering breath and closed his eyes, leaning forward, into the Russian and trying to move his hips in the process. "I like it when...when anyone fights..."
"Anyone?" Russia slid his tongue along the inside curve of America's slender little bit of hair, feeling the smaller male shudder and slump as if he'd come undone any moment, breathing beginning to go ragged. It was fascinating and more than a little erotic how quickly the superpower became putty in his hands once sex was involved. "I have fought many times and yet you always step in. You never sit back and watch."
"O-of course not." Alfred wiggled and tried to buck his hips, the front of his slacks wet with his excitement where they pressed against the tip of Florida. His hands gripped at Ivan's broad shoulders, attempting to rock his body for more friction despite how lewd it was, completely forgetting to care about where he was and or about who he was with. It just felt so good and fuck, let anyone come and see. It would only add to his rapidly growing excitement.
"I only...like it when the fights fair. Watching you pummel someone-" He paused to gasp and thrust against Ivan's thigh, harder than before, when the Russian unfairly stimulated his cowlick at the same time he finally relented and let Alfred continue moving. "-pisses me off!"
"I see." Ivan let Alfred continue unmolested for a few moments, violet eyes just watching the way the blond looked. His cheeks were flushed a pretty red, eyes blazing with lust while he used Russia's leg for his own pleasure. The sounds America kept making were adorable, too. It made him want to take the younger nation right then and there.
He'd wanted to fuck America since he first discovered Alfred's sexual appetite for violence. The way those angelic eyes honed in on bloody noses and bruised knuckles had made Ivan's own hunger well up; eager to confront the 'hero' about his unheroic vice.
"So you don't get aroused because I'm too strong?" Ivan smirked as he spoke, seeing the truth in the way Alfred's eyes narrowed at him and his blush deepened. Russia leaned in close before the American could speak, violet eyes twinkling. "Would you like it if I were to fight someone on my level?"
"Wh-who?" Alfred breathed, hands tensing just from the thought. He was loath to admit it but the thought of Ivan in a fair fight was a huge turn on. Muscles rippling, violet eyes flashing, child-like voice abandoned for masculine cursing and snarling. Swearing in that disgustingly hot language of his or with that deplorably arousing accent he had in English. The large nation would definitely look sexy fighting for his life.
Especially if he were shirtless.
"It doesn't matter." Ivan could already feel the response in Alfred and the thought that his once enemy found him appealing like that sent arousal straight to his already desperately hardened length. His voice became a deep, rumbling purr. "Just imagine me fighting anyone you want. An imaginary person that could take me on equal terms. Someone who would, how you say, 'give me a run for my money', da?"
While Ivan didn't like the thought of fighting someone on his level, preferring to completely dominate his opponents, he did like the way Alfred moaned throatily and clutched at him desperately, legs going weak.
"Fuck..." America's voice was soft toned but filled with the strength of his desire, blue eyes looking up with a heat equal to the hatred Ivan had become accustomed to during the Cold War. This heat promised something much better, something more powerful than nuclear warfare.
"Imagine me bleeding, Alfred." Ivan lifted one of his hands to toy with the young nation's ahoge as he purred the words. The other he brought up to wet his own fingers, sucking efficiently, only with the intent to get them as wet as possible. "Imagine me struggling to win; giving as good as I get." He leaned forward as he whispered, done preparing his fingers; teasingly sucking the little twist of stubborn blond hair past his lips, careful not to pull.
He distracted the American with the words and the sensation of his tongue stroking at his cowlick, inciting heavy shudders every time he ran the tip across soft strands of gold. His hand snuck down the back of Alfred's pants while he did this, feeling the flex of strong, firm muscles as the other nation kept rutting against him.
Unable to help himself Russia cupped one toned cheek and squeezed, dropping the slightly damp hair to breath cool air against it around a chuckle. "So needy and eager. Does the thought of me injured excite you that much?"
"N-no!" Alfred denied fervently, voice raised from the deep purr of need his soft moaning had taken on while Russia played with his body. He bit his lip and didn't meet Ivan's eyes, looking at the opposite wall of the hallway instead. His mind went off into his usual vivid ideas, sending a shiver down his spine; imagining a bruised and bloody Ivan standing the victor after a hard fought battle.
He imagined the sweat that would cover him, slicking his body and mixing into his cuts like salt-water. He imagined licking at that sweat, tasting a spice of copper, caressing well worked muscles, nuzzling a heaving chest and basking in the glow of triumph that always radiated from the winner of a good fight. It all came together to make him moan, throatily. "Just...if you were to fight that hard...it'd be pretty hot."
Humming in pleasure Ivan slid his fingers over and worked one inside of the blond, kissing the wet curve of Alfred's ahoge when he felt the younger man jump from the slight sting. America was no virgin, but not many people were as large as the Russian, even when it came to his fingers.
"Do you imagine fights like that?" Ivan asked, beginning to move his finger inside the tanned nation's tight opening. He moved in time with Alfred's rocking, meeting him so it was the blond pushing back, taking him in deeper and doing most of the work. The bigger nation growled lowly and curled his finger deep inside, searching while he spoke his next words in a voice laden with lust. "Do you touch yourself thinking about what you see during meetings?"
"Ah-hha!" Alfred jerked and twitched, the older and more experience nation finding that place inside of him with only a few moments of poking and prodding and twisting. He clenched around the digit and moaned softly, shaking his head no while his words spilled out an undeniable yes. "I don't...not usually..." He gasped softly, back arching and voice breaking into a tangible quiver. "O-only a few times...when it was really intense..."
"Da?" Ivan licked his lips hungrily as he worked him open. He clamped his hand down on Alfred's hip when he felt the hot walls around his finger beginning to tense rhythmically, knowing that he was teasing the younger body closer and closer to the edge with his words and actions. The wonderfully pathetic keen that followed made him smirk devilishly and press a second finger inside. "Nyet, Alfred. Hold it in."
"...Hurts..." Alfred's soft, barely spoken word had Ivan's eyes flick up immediately, ministrations halting. While he didn't mind hurting the American in other situations, in a myriad of different ways, in this situation it wasn't called for.
What he saw instead of a scowl of pain or discomfort was a look of unadulterated and purely carnal need. Tanned skin was flushed, blue eyes were dark, glasses were fogged and the reassuring pressure of Alfred's engorged length was like a furnace pressing into his thigh.
"What hurts?" Ivan murmured, knowing the answer. It was written in the quick hitch of the young nation's breath, the way America's teenaged body thrummed and pulsed with energy, oh so eager for anything and everything and then willing for even more beyond that.
"Stopping." America tightened his legs around Ivan's one, trying to recreate the pressure, to rekindle the pleasure that had been building into what had felt, at the time, to be an unstoppable wash of ecstasy. He wanted it back. Screw the fact that anyone could come down this hallway, forget that they were probably caught on some obscure security camera.
He needed this.
"Mm." Ivan dipped down to kiss at the sensitive ahoge, then across America's temple and cheeks, and finally stopped at his lips. He spoke against the plush flesh, imagining kissing at the soft skin as much as biting down until Alfred gasped his name. "Tell me what you imagine, and I'll continue."
"C-commie...bastard..." Alfred whined the insult, clenching down hard on the fingers inside of him. His breathing picked up when a third sank inside of him, but the brief spike of delight washed away when he realized Ivan had stopped at that, just leaving his three fingers buried deep without moving.
"I...think about the...sweat. And the blood." Alfred shivered at his own words and licked his lips, eyes closing. His fingers felt cramped around the fisted material of Ivan's clothing. "I picture...anyone. Shirtless and breathing hard. Bruised up. Looking like they got the shit kicked out of them but...knowing they'd won."
"Ah." Ivan nipped at Alfred's lower lip before sucking gently at it, moving his fingers in a little more in appreciation to the American's compliance. "You don't like the fighting solely for the fighting, do you? You like to win."
Alfred bit at Ivan's upper lip and didn't deny it, groaning at the salty streak of copper that welled under his attentions and sucking greedily.
Winning was everything to him, deep down inside.
Second place meant only that you were the first to lose and he hated to lose. The greatest pleasure on earth was fighting tooth and nail for something and actually achieving it.
"Would you imagine me winning, Alfred?" Ivan whispered lowly, beginning to move his fingers again and not minding the rough treatment he'd gotten for discovering America's shallow secret. He smirked against the younger nation's lips, putting the pressure behind the touch to make it a kiss before he pulled back. "Winning against all odds, like the people in your movies?"
"Haaah...yes." America shuddered hard when Russia spoke like that coupled with the movements of his fingers. He tried to rock his hips like before but was still held firmly in place by the other, a thing that would have irked him if not for the sweet stabs of pleasure that snapped his spine straight whenever Ivan hit his sweet spot. "I...I haven't before but...nnngod it'd be sexy..."
Giving a deep chuckle of pleasure from that answer Ivan thrust his fingers in harder, getting Alfred good and stretched for what was to come. From the way the younger nation was squirming and nearly begging with his body he knew he'd have to find a way to hit on America's violent tendencies again. It was just too erotic to see him like this.
"You'd make a good fighter yourself, Alfred." Ivan praised as he slid his fingers out and let America stand on his own two feet again just long enough to push his pants and underwear down and out of the way. His legs were gorgeous, well muscled and just as tan as the rest of him.
"Nn." Alfred flushed prettily from the compliment, always one to bask in the praise and attention of others. He let Ivan lift his legs back up, hooking them over the larger man's hips easily and moaning when he felt the familiar yet strange nudge of Ivan's arousal. It had been a while since he'd had sex and not with Ivan for a long, long time.
He'd never been this turned on during sex, either. His nipples were red and erect and eager and Ivan hadn't even taken his shirt off, let alone touched them. His whole body was quivering in anticipation and half his mind was on the present while the other half kept skipping around past memories of delicious fights he'd seen and current situations he was making up because of what Ivan kept whispering in his ear.
Alfred clung to the Russian when Ivan finally began sliding inside. When he gave a solid grunt of effort it nearly drove the American over the edge, a sudden vivid image of Ivan taking him against a wall just like this right after an intense fight hitting so many of his kinks that he couldn't help but moan loudly and buck, taking the rest of Ivan's erection deep inside.
"Ahh...Alfred...what was that?" Ivan questioned in a deep rumble, having to hold onto America's hips to keep the young nation from undulating anymore than he already had. The feel of him so hot and tight around him was overwhelming.
"J-just...imagined you doing this..." Alfred flushed hotly and squirmed, still reeling from the intensity his own thoughts had put into the situation he found himself in. He closed his eyes and squeezed Ivan with his legs and his inner muscles, licking his lips. "After you'd won a fight."
"You really do like the thought of me getting into fights." Ivan purred, beginning to move his hips a little, letting Alfred adjust to the feeling of being so filled. He leaned forward and gave America a deep kiss, tongue pushing past the blond's lips and mapping out the soft heat of his mouth. He swallowed the hungry groan of desire that thrummed up through Alfred's chest and into their kiss, pushing in and out with a little more strength behind his movements.
"I can't help it!" Alfred's voice spiked as Ivan's large cock ground against his sweet spot, making the blond writhe eagerly within his grasp. He shivered and moaned, clutching Russia tight. "You got me thinking about it and now I c-can't stop!"
"I'm glad." Ivan thrust in faster, lips curled into a smirk whenever he wasn't kissing Alfred breathless or lipping at the sensitive ahoge. He liked Alfred thinking of him and only him. Unable to not think of him, even amongst all these distractions. Because of these distractions.
It all came together to make him growl possessively and take the younger man harder, the sounds they made loud and unforgiving within the completely exposed hotel hallway. Russia didn't care if they were discovered by anyone, human or nation. He'd relish it actually; enjoy showing off the way America mewled for him, held onto him desperately and mumbled on and on about the riveting fantasies Ivan had forced into his head.
He felt the increasing tightness of America's body and knew that the younger nation was close. He pushed in with even more force and dropped a hand from Alfred's hip to his swollen cock, the engorged organ having been ignored completely ever since Ivan freed the sensitive flesh from the confines of America's clothing. He pumped the flesh quickly, thumb sliding along the slick tip at the same time he thrust in against the younger's sweet spot.
The combination proved too much for the blond, his sweaty body snapping taut under the strain of his sudden, all consuming orgasm. He threw his head back and moaned Ivan's name in abandon, blunt nails leaving faint marks in the larger nations shoulders as he shuddered and writhed and bucked on his erection.
Russia grunted and kept thrusting through Alfred's completion, the extra tightness hugging his cock in the most wonderful of ways. He gave a throaty groan of the blond's name when he reached his own peak, the force of his thrusts actually lifting the American up the wall a few inches before he fell back down to meet the next powerful thrust.
Ivan emptied completely inside of Alfred, vision going white for a few long, blissful moments. He leaned against Alfred, the both of them panting hard and shaking, Alfred staying up because of Ivan's weight and Ivan staying up because of the wall.
It took a long while before either were willing to move, Alfred content to lean his head back and doze right where he was, completely trusting Ivan in that moment of post-coital pleasure where he would have allowed anything to pass.
When they did it was Ivan who initiated, letting Alfred's legs slide from around his waist and gently holding the smaller nation up when his limbs immediately buckled. He chuckled at that and gave a crooked smirk, flicking Alfred's cowlick playfully.
"You are so sensitive. Still a teenager in body, da?" He teased gently. Alfred could only give him a lazily hooded glare, slumping over the Russian's strong arm.
"You're the dirty commie who found out my kryptonite and decided to abuse it." Alfred accused, yawning hugely. He could feel thick rivulets of Ivan's cum sliding down his thighs and knew the front of his shirt was probably soiled from his own intense finale. He glanced up at Ivan and fidgeted a little, pants still off and muscles still shaky. "Um...so...could I maybe...?"
"Da." Ivan smirked down at the trembling nation in his arms, cuddling America close to his broad chest. This had turned out much, much better than he'd hoped. "My hotel room is not far. Shall I carry you?"
"No, no. I got this." Alfred pushed away from the easy support of Russia's body and stumbled against the wall, fingers fumbling to pull up his clothing without bothering to clean up any of the sticky white fluid that had spilled out. He managed it after a few awkward moments, making a triumphant noise before he squeaked, suddenly being swept off his feet and into the strong arms of Ivan.
"Hey, hey! Put me down!" Alfred's vocal strength was quickly returning, though his super-strength seemed to have been completely sapped from the amazing sex he'd just had.
"Nyet. Not until we are in my room." Ivan ignored Alfred's continued protests and walked on. He smirked down at the man in his arms, violet eyes glinting. "I am not through with you yet, Alfred."
The promise in the tone was enough to shut America up and send a shiver of anticipation down his spine.