Matthew Williams, also known as Canada, sighed as he tried to get as comfortable as possible. The very heavy body sitting atop his made that rather difficult; Russia was the largest nation in the world, after all.
The meeting in London was turning out just like every other meeting in Canada's experience. He was ignored by all the nations, even his brother, as soon as he entered the building, as if he was invisible. He was already feeling low when he sat down in his chair as the meeting began. Of course, Russia had once again decided that the seat he was occupying was actually empty and proceeded to sit down right on top of him "obliviously."
Sometimes Canada wondered just how "oblivious" the large nation was. It wasn't like the two nations were strangers; their governments worked quite well together and they often saw each other when their bosses met. Russia always noticed him then, but as soon as they were in a World Meeting setting he seemed to find Canada just as invisible as everyone else did.
Matthew sighed again and wriggled his numbing toes in his dress shoes, staring at Russia's white dress-shirt clad back. The nation had uncharacteristically decided to strip off his usual heavy coat, which was now hanging on the back of the chair. Canada supposed it was a little warm in the room, as it was the middle of the summer.
He glanced around the Russian's shoulder to see his brother still talking animatedly about whatever it was he was talking about. Canada tended not to listen very closely to Alfred's ideas, though he felt a little bad about it. It wasn't as if Alfred wouldn't tell him about them again later on today; the American loved to talk at his brother even if Canada never responded. Usually Matthew didn't mind but sometimes it was a little trying.
Speaking of trying, he glared at the back in front of him. He wished Kumajirou was here – the little polar bear would have bitten Russia for him if Canada had asked him. He lifted a hand to push his glasses back up his nose and studied the broad back. The larger nation sat rigidly, the strong muscles of his back tensed and their outlines visible through the shirt. He knew that if he could see Russia's face, it would have that same gentle smile plastered on it, but it was obvious from what he could see that the Russian was very stiff.
Canada frowned; Russia must be in a lot of pain with such tension, not that the large nation would ever show it. He probably considered that a weakness. Russia was one of those nations who, despite attempts to seem less intimidating, always wanted others to be aware of how powerful he was. It was a defense mechanism, Canada supposed, the nation had been through a lot in his rough life.
That didn't mean the Canadian appreciated it any more. In fact, it irked him to no end when Russia would try to loom over him during their bosses' meetings. Canada wanted that handsome face to look at him with a real smile, for the Russian to not feel that he had to intimidate Matthew. He wanted Russia to trust him, he wanted –
Canada shook his head to free it of those thoughts. Where had that come from? He had always been attracted to the tall Russian, but he never wanted anything to go that far, did he? He was confusing himself again.
He stared at Russia's back again to try and clear his head, but that only made him worry further about Russia's current state. Why was he so tense? Canada knew that once he started worrying, he wouldn't stop until the source was resolved, but what could he do about this situation? Unless…
Alfred often asked Matthew to give him a back massage whenever Matthew came over to visit the American. Apparently, he had "god-like hands" or something like that. He couldn't remember exactly what Alfred had said. Canada glanced up at the light pink scarf around Russia's neck and gulped. He remembered how the Russian reacted when someone other than Ukraine tried to touch the scarf, would someone touching his person elicit the same response?
He watched as the muscles of Russia's back clenched and shuddered suddenly and made up his mind. He would try. He might have to run away as fast as he could, but he would try.
Hesitantly, he raised his palms and laid both flat on the middle of Russia's back, testing. The other nation tensed further, shoulders hunching up closer to his ears, but he didn't make any move to stop Canada or even to turn his head around. Canada snorted derisively – obviously Russia was aware that he was sitting on him then, but just didn't care.
Refocusing, he pressed the heels of his hands harder into the firm muscle, sliding them up towards the shoulders with an even pressure. Russia shifted slightly on Canada's lap, causing him to cease his movements out of caution in case the larger had decided he would no longer tolerate the contact. However, after rolling his shoulders a bit Russia settled back down as if nothing happened.
Canada took this as a sign that he was free to continue. He moved his fingers further up to lightly grasp the other nation's shoulders, digging his thumbs into the trapezius muscles at the same time as his fingers began to move in slow, gentle circles. The muscle under his hands was extremely tense, and Canada didn't want to rub too firmly and hurt the nation even more.
As he continued his ministrations, Canada once again couldn't believe the state into which Russia had let himself decline. The tension in his back and shoulders was so severe that it felt like rock beneath his palms, with countless swollen and probably very painful knots obvious even through Russia's dress shirt. The Canadian worked his thumbs gently into those knots and was fascinated at the way they loosened under his touch. Some required a firmer pressure, which made the Russian grunt softly and Canada wince in sympathy. He was worried that if he caused the larger nation too much pain he would be hurt in return.
Those knots loosened eventually, though, and instead of turning around to fix him with a violet glare, Russia slumped further into the Canadian he was using as a chair. He had also begun shifting around more on Canada's lap, unconsciously stimulating the smaller nation's most sensitive area.
Canada fought the urge to buck his hips up and instead settled for panting slightly and moving his hands to attack the knots around Russia's shoulder blades. The Russian apparently liked that, as whenever the Canadian managed to loosen a tight area, he would let out a small moan of approval and relax further, letting his shoulders fall.
The quiet groans shot pulses of electricity straight down to Canada's hardening cock, eliciting a silent groan from the smaller nation. Whenever Russia writhed on Canada's lap, he ground directly into the now large bulge in his black slacks, causing the Canadian's own moans to join the chorus. Matthew could feel his face flushing and the air around him heating up to an uncomfortable point. Licking his dry lips, he began to knead his thumbs down along Russia's spine to tackle the tightness in his lower back. He nearly whimpered when the actions caused Russia to purr in pleasure and arch his back into the touch.
When a large knot near the waistband of Russia's pants finally relented under Canada's touch, the larger nation suddenly slumped all the way forward onto the table in front of him, boneless. He let out a loud, childish hum of approval, unashamedly gaining the attention of the other nations in the meeting. Some nations stared, others glanced pointedly in other directions, and Alfred looked away from his hamburger-decorated PowerPoint and scowled.
"Ya got something to say Russia?" he snapped, "Because I was right in the middle of something important!" He punctuated his words by slamming a palm down on the meeting table, unintentionally creating a loud, huge crack in the glossy wood with his strength. Russia stared at him through lowered eyelids, unaffected and Canada sank down further behind the cold nation in case his brother could see him. Fortunately, Alfred was distracted when Arthur jumped up and began yelling at the American.
"Bloody hell! Why on Earth would you do that!" the Briton exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at his former colony, "Learn to control yourself, because if you break something else I'll break your head!"
"But Artie it huuuuurts!" Alfred whined, holding up his now throbbing hand and pouting.
"Argh you stupid…let me see it. You better not have hurt yourself doing such an idiotic-"
"Perhaps this is a good time for today's meeting to end." Germany interrupted, standing up to look at all of the nations, "Since most of us seem to have gotten distracted." He turned to his right to glare at a sleeping Italy, a chatting Spain, France, and Prussia, and the empty seats of those nations who had somehow managed to sneak out of the room, "We will continue tomorrow."
All of the nations nodded in agreement and filed out of the room as quickly as possible, eager to have some down time after the long meeting. Canada, now very self-conscious and still very hard, wanted badly to follow them and take care of his "problem" in the bathroom. The Russian on his lap, however, had still not lifted himself, apparently content to stay where he was. Nobody questioned the large nation's decision to stay nor did they notice Canada, so it was only a few seconds before the two were the only ones left in the conference room.
Russia hummed again and finally stood up and off of Canada, rolling his shoulders and sighing happily before reaching around the table in front of him to collect his notes and stuff them into his small black brief case.
Canada watched warily and silently as Russia took his briefcase in one hand then turned to step around behind the chair. Matthew shivered but did not turn around when the large nation retrieved his coat from its hanging place on the chair's back. He stiffened as the Russian's gloved fingers brushed over his shoulder as he grasped the trench but relaxed again when Russia moved away from the chair with his collected belongings and started towards the door.
Matthew was both disappointed and relieved that Russia had apparently forgotten about him, but couldn't stop his stomach from clenching unhappily. Was Russia really just going to walk away like nothing happened? He exhaled and began gathering his own papers, placing them into his briefcase and also heading towards the door, looking pointedly at the floor. That would make him no different than his other partners, he supposed.
The sound of a lock sliding into place halted Canada in his tracks. He looked up to see Russia grinning at him, one hand on the door lock and the other releasing to drop his coat and briefcase to the floor. The Canadian couldn't help but back up a few steps when the Russian started to advance predatorily.
"R…Russia I'm sorry!" he stammered, holding his hands out in front of him protectively, "I didn't mean too – I shouldn't have – "
Before Canada knew it, Russia was right in front of him, grin still in place. He yelped a bit and tried to back up further, but the Russian grabbed his upper arm in a strong grip, holding him there.
"Wait Russia, I'm sorry! I – "
Russia suddenly slammed his lips to Canada's in a harsh kiss that stopped the words in his mouth. The Canadian was tall enough that the Russian only had to incline his head down a little as he attempted deepen the kiss hungrily.
Matthew, shocked, was frozen in place as the Russian began to nibble at his bottom lip, asking for entrance. He couldn't believe this. Russia was kissing him. Russia was kissing him, and it felt spectacular. Just like the feel of powerful muscles loosening under his fingers and the heavy weight grinding into his erection which still stood proudly, tenting the front of his slacks. Not allowing his overactive mind to ruin the moment, the Canadian pressed his body further into the Russian's and parted his lips in acceptance.
Russia took advantage immediately, thrusting his tongue in to dance along the roof of Canada's mouth and tangle with the other tongue. Large hands reached up to cup Matthew's cheek and grasp at his hair as Russia tilted his head slightly to the side so his prominent nose no longer hindered them. Matthew moaned into the kiss, allowing the Russian to ravish him for a time before deciding he was done being completely submissive.
He wrapped an arm around Russia's waist and grasped the scarf-covered back of his neck to pull him even closer. Matthew crushed their lips together harder and allowed his own tongue to battle heatedly with the Russian's, his considerable skill ripping a groan from Russia's throat. The fight for dominance continued until Russia had to pull away for air. Licking up the strand of saliva connecting their lips, he smiled at the smaller nation ravenously.
"Ah you are very good at this little Canada," he panted in a low, thick accented voice, "I would not have guessed. You are usually so quiet, da? Perhaps if you showed this side of you more the others would notice."
Canada, still recovering from the kiss and not thinking clearly, responded sharply; "I'm not a whore Russia. Maybe if I wanted attention I should just intimidate everyone like you do."
Matthew flinched at his words, realizing that he just insulted one of the most dangerous and powerful nations on the planet. If the Russian wanted to pound him into a pulp, Canada wouldn't be able to escape without considerable injuries. What had he done, what had he –
Russia only chuckled roughly and moved his large hands to grab Canada's hips, grinding their erections together harshly. Matthew gasped in response and shuddered, grasping at the Russian's shirt.
"Many nations would not dare say such things to me," the bigger nation said appreciatively as he dug his fingers harder into the flesh beneath them but not hard enough to hurt, "Though I would not hurt them for it, I suppose they do not know that. You are much braver than them little one, I am starting to wonder how you could be so invisible."
"Why do you call me little one," Canada asked, fear now only dancing on the edge of his consciousness, "I'm not that much smaller than you. I'm one of the biggest countries."
Russia's face went blank and he blinked cutely before smiling again, "It is cute, da? It suits you because you are cute as well."
Canada blushed, perplexed at the Russian's sudden change of mood but indignant at the comment, "Cute? How am I cute? If anything I'm handsome or…something…"
The Russian giggled and bumped his nose against Canada's almost innocently. When he spoke again the forceful edge was back in his voice and his eyes bore into the Canadian's, "Hmmm what were you doing to me during the meeting little Canada? You were being very naughty."
"I – you were sitting on me," Canada started, stammering slightly, "and…I noticed that you were tense and I – I wanted to help. So I gave you a massage, I guess. I'm good at them…at least according to Alfred."
Russia's nostrils flared, "America. You touch America in that way?" he growled.
"NO!" Canada said hurriedly, "No. I mean, not like that. Not like I did with you. When I do it to Alfred I don't – I don't get – "
"Aroused," Russia finished with a dark smile, rolling his hips against the evidence in the Canadian's pants. Matthew groaned, feeling uncomfortably warm all over.
"Y-yes." He gasped.
"Would you like me to do something about it," the Russian asked innocently, teasingly. He reached down to brush his long fingers against the bulge, caressing Canada through his slacks.
"Yes, I…yes." Canada affirmed cautiously. In truth, he was a few seconds away from snapping and jumping the Russian, but he didn't want to let down his guard completely. Not yet.
The Russian grinned and leaned in to catch Canada's lips in a short kiss. He moved one hand from Matthew's hip to cup his ass, causing Canada to moan again.
"Mmnn, Russia – "
"Ivan," Russia said, meeting Canada's eyes with a sharp, almost hungry violet gaze, "If we are going to be intimate you will call me by my name."
"Ivan," Canada repeated, appreciating the way the Russian name rolled off his tongue. Russia apparently appreciated it as well, for his smile widened and his eyes narrowed further. The Canadian swallowed roughly as his cock twitched at the Russian's predatory scrutiny, "You can…you can call me Matthew."
"Matvey." Ivan purred in response. The smooth inflection of the Russian version of his name caused Matthew's face to flush and his fingers to twitch, desiring to grab the other nation and pull him closer. The Canadian couldn't believe how bad he wanted this; it had been so long and Ivan looked so handsome and dangerous and strong and oh God why was he doing this and what would Alfred think and why was Ivan not moving faster and –
Matthew yelped loudly and his thoughts were cut off when Ivan enclosed thick arms around his waist and lifted him easily off the ground. The Canadian grasped at the sturdy shoulders and wrapped his legs around the Russian's hips instinctively as he was carried back a few steps and set down on the conference table.
"Mmm Matvey," Ivan said again, drawling out his name. Matthew swallowed hard and gripped at the edge of the table, the wood creaking under his strength and threatening to splinter. The hungry look in the Russian's purple eyes set his skin on fire, a flush traveling from his cheeks down to his neck and beyond.
Ivan slid his gaze down to Matthew's white dress shirt and grunted in annoyance at the buttons hiding soft, pale skin. Canada had a habit of buttoning up his shirts to the highest button, though France often told him to leave a few open if he really wanted someone to notice him. Honestly he doubted even that would work.
With three muffled pops, the offending buttons were sent flying off into the room and the flushed skin of Canada's heaving chest and neck were exposed. Indignant at the ruin of his shirt, Matthew opened his mouth to protest,
"Russia why would you…Mmmph!"
Ivan's lips crushed against Matthew's in another bruising kiss, his hot tongue returning to dance with the Canadian's. Matthew groaned into the kiss when Ivan dragged the tip of his tongue over the sensitive roof of his mouth before pulling it out and breaking the kiss with a harsh nip on his lower lip.
Ignoring his partner's whine of protest, the Russian pushed Matthew's back down against the table and leaned over him, keeping most of his weight braced on one palm. He lifted a hand to pluck the Canadian's glasses off of his face, folded them carefully, and set them to the side. Satisfied, Ivan began to suck at the spot between Canada's ear and the end of his jaw. Matthew writhed, gasping when Ivan began to move down the side of his throat, alternating between nipping at the skin and running a soothing tongue along the irritated flesh.
Matthew panted and tilted his head back to expose more of his neck to the exploring mouth. His hands scrabbled at the Russian's clothed back, digging nails in through the thin fabric. He rolled his hips upwards into Ivan's to press his aching length against the other's sizeable bulge, eliciting a growl that sent ticklish waves through his neck.
The Russian bit hard at the junction between Canada's neck and shoulder in response and lapped up the blood that welled from the wound. The combination of pain and soothing pleasure ripped a moan from Matthew's throat and set the motion of his hips into a faster, more desperate pace. Ivan let out his own soft groan at the feeling of the smaller nation's erection rubbing against his own and he buried his face into the neck he was just assaulting while reaching down a large hand to pin the Canadian's hips to the table. It wouldn't do to finish so early before the real fun began.
Canada could feel Ivan's smile against his skin before that hot mouth began to move again, down over his collar bone and onto the part of his chest that was exposed. A deceptively deft hand snapped three more buttons off Matthew's shirt, baring the entirety of his chest to the Russian. Matthew squeezed his eyes shut as his cock twitched and hardened further at Ivan's scrutiny.
A gentle kiss placed in the middle of his chest caused Matthew's eyes to shoot open – the tender gesture was out of place among the controlling passion Russia had been displaying thus far, not that Canada was complaining. He brought his head up to rest his chin against his chest and peered down at the other nation.
Ivan's violet eyes - dancing with a tantalizing mix of amusement, arousal, danger, and affection – looked straight back into his unashamedly. The Russian's chin was resting against Matthew's sternum and a playful grin, one much too simple compared to the complexities of Russia's eyes, curved his red, kiss-swollen lips. A flush spread endearingly along pale cheeks completed what was, in Matthew's mind, a beautiful and precarious sight.
He watched, transfixed, as Ivan's mouth lowered to a dark pink nipple. The cold nation darted out his tongue to lap experimentally at the sensitive nub before closing his lips around it and sucking gently. Matthew cried out and arched his back, his hips starting to buck against the Russian's hold. Pleased with the reaction, Ivan moved to latch onto the other nipple, tongue swirling around it.
"Maple!" Canada groaned throatily, "Stop… ahhh… stop teasing Ivan!"
The Russian stopped his ministrations and looked up at Canada, grinning.
"As you wish Matvey."
With that, Ivan ripped off the rest of Matthew's shirt buttons and placed a hand on the small of the Canadian's back to pull him back up into a sitting position so he could remove the shirt completely. Matthew lifted his arms to assist the process, groaning when the cool air hit his heated skin. Large fingers then began working quickly at the buttons of his slacks, and Matthew placed his palms on the table to raise his hips so Ivan could pull the pants and red, maple-leaf boxers roughly down to his ankles.
Now fully exposed to the Russian's gaze, Matthew's face grew redder and he looked away. Ivan chuckled at that and stepped a few paces away to grab the back of one of the large, purple velvet armchairs situated against the wall near the conference room's door. He dragged it back over to the table in front of Matthew and sat down. A few seconds later, cool fingers, suddenly glove-free, wrapped around Matthew's blood-darkened member and pumped twice, causing him to cry out harshly and grab Ivan's shoulders.
"I-Ivan," he gasped, sweat beading on his forehead. Ivan tilted his head up to smile at Matthew before leaning down to lap at the head of the Canadian's cock, eliciting a loud moan.
Encouraged by the sound, Ivan wrapped his lips completely around the head, suckling gently and running his tongue along the sensitive underside. Matthew nearly sobbed as he bucked desperately into that hot, wet mouth. The Russian took him further into his mouth in response and placed his other hand on Canada's left hip to keep him from bucking again.
Matthew threw his head back and cried out again as Ivan swallowed him halfway, sucking harder and using a hand to continue pumping his length. The Canadian tangled his fingers into silver hair but loosened his grip when the Russian growled in response. The reverberations the growl sent through his cock caused him to let out a choked scream.
"Ivan!" he begged breathlessly, "Ivan stop. I'm gonna –"
The Russian heeded his words and pulled his mouth off with a wet pop. He released Matthew's erection from his fingers and stood up out of the chair, lifting three of those fingers to the Canadian's mouth.
"Suck." He demanded simply. Matthew looked at him warily.
"The wardrobe," the Canadian replied, pointing over Ivan's shoulder. The Russian's eyes followed his finger to a large, ornate wooden wardrobe on the wall to his right, "Francis said he kept 'supplies' there," Matthew sighed and shook his head, "apparently he keeps supplies in the World meeting conference rooms of every country."
Ivan raised a questioning silver brow but complied without a word, walking over to the wardrobe. Sure enough, a drawer held a squeeze bottle of lube and various other toys that Ivan left alone. France was a strange country.
Lube in hand, he strolled back to Matthew, unbuttoning his own shirt as he approached to reveal scarred, pale skin and a broad chest that tapered down to narrower hips. The bit of fat around his stomach and hips did nothing to detract from the strength of his torso, which Matthew raked his eyes over appreciatively. Ivan even gently unwound his scarf and placed it on a nearby chair, exposing a pale neck marred with multiple scars. He was absolutely stunning and Matthew licked his lips hungrily. Good god he wanted this man and he wanted him now.
The Canadian laid back onto the table invitingly when Ivan was back standing between his legs. The Russian groaned his approval and grabbed Matthew's calves to lift them onto his shoulders. He then used a thumb to flip the cap off of the bottle of lube and squeezed, coating the fingers of his right hand with the warm, slippery gel. When he was finished, he positioned a finger at the Canadian's exposed entrance and leaned completely over him speak into his ear.
"You are sure Matvey?" he asked huskily, uncertainly. Matthew, warmed by his concern, nodded.
"I'm sure. Just don't be too rough, eh?" he replied with a crooked grin. The Russian smiled genuinely at him before working a thick finger in past the ring of muscle.
Matthew gasped and dug his nails into Ivan's bare shoulders, trying to relax his body against the intrusion. He was no virgin, but it had been quite a while since he had done this last. The larger nation waited until Matthew nodded, a signal to continue, before slipping in another slick finger, scissoring both to stretch Matthew further. This time Matthew adjusted much quicker and Ivan was able to push in a third finger after a few seconds, causing the Canadian to moan gutturally. The Russian's fingers were so large that he already felt full, but he knew that he would have to fit something much bigger soon.
The fingers wriggled inside of him, stretching and searching for the spot that would make Matthew see stars. Suddenly, the fingers curled up and successfully brushed against his prostate, sending a wave of white hot pleasure coursing up his spine. The Canadian slammed his head back onto the table with a hoarse cry and pushed down further onto the Russian's fingers. Ivan grinned, satisfied.
"Found it!" he sang, pressing into the spot over and over again until Matthew was writhing on the table and crying out desperately.
"PLEASE!" he gasped, "Please, I want you inside me now!"
Ivan nodded eagerly and pulled his fingers out slowly in compliance. He gently lifted the Canadian's calves from his shoulders and set them down to let Matthew's feet dangle near the floor. Matthew lay panting and shaking on the table, covered in sweat as the Russian grabbed the bottle of lube and stepped back to undo and pull his own pants boxers down around his calves. Once his cock sprang free of its confines, dark red, standing proud and huge, Ivan sat back down in the large arm chair behind him and called to the smaller nation still recovering on the table.
"Matvey, come here." He demanded, spreading more lube on his palm and starting to pump his own length slowly with one hand.
Matthew sat up to look at the Russian and whimpered his arousal when he realized what Ivan was asking of him. He placed his feet on the ground and stood on jellified legs, toeing off his shoes and using one foot to untangle his pants and boxers from around his ankles before kicking them across the room. Too aroused to be embarrassed, he obediently walked over to Ivan and leaned over the Russian. He grasped at the back of the chair as he lifted one knee to settle onto the armchair next to Ivan's thigh and then the other.
Now kneeling in the armchair, straddling Ivan's lap and pressed flush to his chest, Matthew positioned his slick entrance above the tip of the larger nation's erection. Ivan wrapped an arm around Matthew's back encouragingly, urging him to continue. The Canadian grinned at his lover before impaling himself onto Ivan's cock, taking him in half way.
Ivan let out a cry at the tight, slick heat and muscle around his throbbing cock. He bucked his hips into that beautiful inferno and brought a hand up to tangle in Matthew's sweat soaked blond hair. He opened his eyes to look at the nation in front of him and groaned at the sight.
Matthew was absolutely beautiful; his blue-violet eyes open halfway, pupils dilated, pale cheeks flushed and drops of sweat caressing down his cheeks. His teeth worried at a plump, swollen bottom lip and his wavy blonde hair was tousled hopelessly, that stray curl hanging down over his face. Entranced, Ivan pinched that curl between his thumb and pointer finger and pulled gently.
Matthew gave a strangled cry, a shudder of pleasure wracking his entire body. He squeezed his eyes shut and pushed down further onto Ivan's member, taking the Russian almost all the way in.
"Again!" he implored as he lifted up slightly and pushed down again, trying to get the Russian to press against his prostate. Ivan moaned and bucked his hips powerfully to thrust up into the Canadian, earning cries from both of them. The large nation threw his head back and tightened his grip on Matthew's hip with one hand while the other continued to tug at the curl.
The Canadian's thigh muscles burned and shivered with effort and the pleasure coming from his erogenous zone as he worked up and down on Ivan's cock, still trying to find the right spot. Ivan noticed his struggle and assisted, rolling his hips to press further into Matthew. After a few moments of Matthew pushing down and Ivan thrusting up at the same time, the Canadian cried out loudly.
"THERE!" he howled, arching his back, "Right there Ivan!"
Ivan growled and thrust into the same spot again, earning another hoarse yell. Still tugging at the Canadian's curl, he started pounding roughly into Matthew's prostate as the Canadian slammed down onto him in return. The two created a hot, pulsing rhythm that grew faster and faster as they spiraled towards the edge.
Matthew, tired of his hands being idle, ran them along Ivan's pale chest, pinching at his nipples. Ivan groaned in response, his head still thrown back against the arm chair and exposing a neck littered with thick pink scars. Matthew stared at the neck through pleasure-glazed eyes and leaned down to lick experimentally at the skin.
The cry Ivan gave at that treatment was the loudest noise Matthew had ever heard from the Russian. His thrusts became more erratic and he tilted his head to the side, silently begging the Canadian to continue. Growing closer and closer to completion, Matthew sucked and nipped desperately at Ivan's neck and moaned to send vibrations through the skin.
When Matthew bit down on the junction between Ivan's neck and shoulder, the Russian thrust into him one last time and came hard with a hoarse shout, filling the Canadian with his hot seed. He reached down to pump Matthew's cock, and only a few seconds later, Matthew reached his own climax with a shout. Lights danced across his vision and every nerve in his body seemed to fire as he splashed come across Ivan's stomach.
Finished, the two sat there for a few minutes, chests heaving as they rode out the waves of intense pleasure. Matthew laid his sweaty forehead against Ivan's shoulder and Ivan held him loosely about the waist. Neither spoke, happy to commemorate the moment with silence, their heavy breathing the only sound in the room.
Finally, the Canadian felt recovered enough to lift himself off of Ivan, the larger nation's softened member sliding out of him easily. He pressed his lips against Ivan's in a soft kiss before pushing off of his lap and standing.
"That was…" he panted, trying to find the right words, "that was amazing Ivan. Maple, I – "
The Russian giggled tiredly and lifted his boneless body out of the arm chair. He pulled up his boxers and pants and buttoned them again. Shirtless and stomach still covered with Matthew's seed, he stepped towards the Canadian and cupped his cheek.
"You did so well little Matvey." He purred, "But you must be going, da? I do not think America would be happy with you being gone so long."
Matthew, slightly hurt by Ivan's seeming willingness to get rid of him, picked up his glasses from the conference table and placed them on his face to look at the clock. 8:00 pm! Shit, he was supposed to have met Alfred for dinner at 7! He knew that his brother would freak out; the nation was far too paranoid at times.
"Ahh! I have to go now!" he exclaimed, kneeling down to grab his discarded clothes and pull them on haphazardly. He buttoned his shirt quickly and stomped into his shoes, trying to ignore the twinges of pain coming from his backside. Once dressed, he ran around to the other side of the table to grab his briefcase with one hand and tried to smooth his hair down with the other. He could feel hickeys throbbing on his neck and groaned; couldn't Ivan have been gentler?
He realized he'd nearly forgotten about the Russian in his panic and whipped his head up to look at the larger nation, pouting when he found a fully-dressed Ivan grinning in amusement at him.
"Such hurry Matvey." He said, giggling, "You look like a scurrying little squirrel." Ivan's smile dropped suddenly and he looked at Matthew almost forlornly, as if he was waiting for something.
Matthew frowned at that and walked up to the larger nation. He shifted his briefcase into the other hand and flushed, embarrassment returning under the Russian's scrutiny. He could still feel Ivan's come inside of him for Maple's sake! But he had to say something to Ivan now. He didn't want to feel used like a whore, he didn't want Ivan to walk away and pretend this never happened. He wanted…he wanted to do this again, to try for something more substantial even if it didn't end up working out.
"Listen, Ivan," he began, still not looking at the Russian and trying to find the right words to say what he wanted to say, "I…I don't want this to be a one-time thing, it's just – I want to know you better and I want to try to make something of this because I…Do you think you'd want to, that you could..."
The Canadian was not expecting the Russian to wrap him in a tight hug and lift him slightly off the ground but took it as a good sign.
"Of course Matvey!" Russia replied happily, "I like you, you make things less cold and you make me feel good." he set Matthew down and smiled genuinely, strangely serious, "You make me feel right. I have not been feeling right for a long time. Thank you."
"I…" Matthew whispered, moved more then he'd care to admit by the Russian's words, "You're welcome, I guess." He smiled gently up at the larger nation, "I can see you again soon, right?" he asked softly.
Ivan grinned and leaned over to whisper conspiratorially in Matthew's ear, "St. Ermin's hotel. Room 204. I think we both might be needing a massage, da?"
Matthew swallowed, his entire face going red again as Ivan stepped back and strolled out of the conference room, laughing. He was still standing there trying to gather his thoughts when his cell phone began ringing the Canadian national anthem in his briefcase. He struggled for a few seconds to open the case and pull out the phone before answering.
"Hello?"
"MATTIE!" his brother's boisterous voice screamed into the phone, causing Matthew to wince, "Where are you! You were supposed to get dinner with me! Are you sick? Are you hurt? Are you dying Mattie!"
Matthew sighed, "Hello Alfred, I'm still at the conference building. I know I was and I'm sorry but I forgot. We can go eat now if you want. No, no, no and I'll meet you at the hotel in a few minutes. Bye."
With that he ended the call before Alfred could respond and stuffed the phone in his pocket. Chuckling at the small victory and thinking about the handsome Russian who would be waiting for him later, Matthew realized he hadn't felt this amazing in years. He would definitely be less lonely, as he knew there would be at least one person who wouldn't forget about him, not after everything they just went through.
Old fears and doubts flowing out of him at a rapid pace, Matthew walked out of the room confidently, flicking the lights off as he left.