Okay, first fanfic in English. I'm sorry for any eventual mistake/weird grammar.
Warnings: lots of weird grammar, homossexuality, blood and pain ahead. Yep, NON-CON like ~almost~ every RussLiet out there, but I think this one is kind of different from the others. Well, at least in the next chap, I guess.
Disclaimer: the insanity here presented is of my own. However, we are all well aware that Axis Powers Hetalia was born of a hallucination caused by drug abuse by Hidekaz Himaruya-sama (jk). I own nothing but a strait jacket and cookies, don't sue me. 8'D
Words in Russian [which I can't Romanize quite well] and Lithuanian [which I used Google Translate] by the end of the chap.
Дотянуться до тебя
Chapter 1: Pragaras žemėje
He is sick, Toris thought, in despair, he is just too sick. He looked at Eduard, whose head was leaning against the wall, his were staring at the sky but he was seeing only the emptiness. Why don't we do anything? Toris' eyes were burning, he felt like weeping but he couldn't. Raivis cried out inside the house; it made the Estonian guy sitting on the ground beside him clench his hands into fists upon his bent knees (or rather clench one hand – which was not cast by the work of Braginski). It was the best they could do. To feel the anger. And the fear.
"Noooo. Please... stop... please" begged the youngest of the Baltic trio.
"Let's get out of here... once and for all..." Toris muttered while closing his eyes. "Please, Eduard. Let's go. I can't stand it. One day he'll kill one of us."
"You know we can't... we have no strength... for anything." It was noticeable how his own words hurt himself.
The sound of a loud thud escaped through the window curtains of the elegant house they lived, then Raivis shouted once again and louder. Then there was... silence. Toris and Eduard stared at each other briefly, the tension built up upon them, before they stood up – the least one spreading the earth and grass off of his pants unconsciously – as they watched from behind the trunks of trees in the garden, their not-so-secret-hideout. Ivan Braginski left the house, walking kind of unsteadily.
He went straight to the gates, without seeing them – and he probably would not be able see anything anyway. The two Baltic men waited until the other guy disappeared completely, and then ran inside the house, only to find Raivis on the floor, panting, bruised, bleeding. Without a word, Toris got down on his knees beside the boy, while Eduard sought a white briefcase in the bathroom. The long-haired guy stared at the blue-eyed boy, assessing the damage. It was cruel to notice how the little Latvian wasn't even able to cry anymore after... well, after Ivan's cruel side manifested.
"Lately he's been drinking too much. He's worse than ever! I told you to be careful of what you do, Raivis..." Toris said in a complacent voice, after all. He sounded like a mother.
Eduard returned, giving him a reproachful look behind his glasses, while shaking his head slightly as if to say 'not now'. Toris only sighed.
"I didn't do anything..." Raivis muttered in a whiny voice.
"Okay. Forget it. Can you sit?" the Estonian asked, trying to help the youngest of them who was trembling.
Raivis nodded weakly and then he raised his upper body, supporting his weight with his hands on the floor, shaking.
"Take your clothes off" Eduard told him, crouching beside Toris.
His words were not necessary, however. It was always like that. Raivis obeyed, and then he felt the sting of the cold medicine that Toris began to smear on his wounds. That was the least of it. It was indeed the least of it all.
Ivan arrived back home several hours later. The Lithuanian guy was alone in the kitchen, wiping the dishes from the lunch, so he had not seen him, but heard the Russian's familiar footsteps, and then a door was slammed upstairs. Toris sighed, entertained with his task for a few minutes, while looking out the window over the sink. Eduard and Raivis finished sweeping that side of the garden and went to the front of the house – or hell, if you prefer.
"Priviet, Toris" someone said suddenly.
The boy jumped so high that, with an unconscious movement of his hand, he bumped in the rack, knocking the glasses that were there – his heart about to leave through his mouth. And the scare remained sore in his chest when he saw Ivan there, behind him in the doorway.
"O-ow. Gosh, I'm sorry. I'll clean it up right away." he said desperately searching for the broom everywhere. He did not want to suffer any more reprisals, he had to do everything right.
"Forget it. Come up with me out there, da?" was what the tallest man said, quietly.
Toris went into a halt and looked at him briefly (briefly was the most he could, he was afraid of staring for too long). The effect of alcohol seemed to have passed, but by no means was that a relief. Ivan was still Ivan, in the end.
"O-out there?" he stammered, hemmed. "Erh... o-okay..."
"Hu hu, I wanted to put some sunflowers in the living room" Ivan smiled, watching the Baltic approach and accompany him to a safe distance when they started to walk. "But for some reason, they are dying so fast lately... then, instead, come on out... let's just look from afar."
They crossed the corridor, then the hall until they reached the garden. Toris caught a glimpse of Ravis hiding behind Eduard when the boy saw them, holding the Estonian's shirt, and received a look of compassion of the tallest guy. Was it his turn now? Toris wished he could hide as well. He stifled a sigh, while they walked through the garden to the fields of sunflowers a few feet from the house. Along the way, he could not hold back a shiver.
"I like to see how they turn... They are... so beautiful, aren't they?"
"Hm..." Toris was startled up by the abrupt halt of the Russian, who smiled at the flowers; then he noticed that they had reached the fields already. They're pretty indeed, but I don't think you are sensible enough to think of it like any normal person... I guess you like sunflowers because you think of them as if they were us and you were the sun... I, Ravis, Eduard, Natalia and Yakaterina... you want all of us to spin in your direction. You're sick., he could not help thinking such a thing, but his only reply was: "Oh. Oh yes, they are, i-indeed".
"They're kind of funny... Did you know they only track the sun while they're growing? When they are 'adults' they keep still..." he stared at the ground for a moment. "How is Ravis doing?" he changed the subject all of a sudden.
Do you even care?
"G-good. Now he's fine." Toris admired the grass on the ground.
"I think... I was kind of annoying to him."
A-annoying? Toris turned so to speak, but he was interrupted.
"Brat!" a female voice wavered to the ears of both of them.
Suddenly, Toris could catch a glimpse of a tired expression on Ivan's face before he turned to the girl. He was surprised to see something other than the usual fake and psychotic smile.
"Let's talk inside, pozhaluista!" sounded nothing like a request, though.
"Thanks for the company... Toris".
Having said that, Ivan went to meet his sister so they entered the residence behind her, while he had his arm grabbed with strength in the way. The Lithuanian could not understand anything. First, he had been called up there for nothing. Or the oldest guy really wanted to say something? Or do? And what did that thanks mean? He had never grate for anything in life – at least not that Toris had witnessed.
The forming confusion in the mind of the young Lithuanian prevented him from noticing the deadly look he received from the Belarusian girl across the garden – although he would probably have failed to notice that, if he had seen it. Natalia was too perfect in his eyes. He would love to be in that kolkhoz monster's place. He used to wonder what the hell she, who was "oh so perfect and beautiful", saw in that monster? Why him? That was what Toris was thinking about while he entered the house again.
The brunette guy proved the hot chocolate he was preparing and thought it was particularly good, at a pleasant temperature. He put the pot on the tray with two cups, saucers and sugar bowl, and then he went down the hall towards the Russian's office. Not that he really had high hopes on gaining favors with Ivan or Natalia, but he would not lose anything at all. Even if it means nothing to them, okay, that's what he thought. It had always been so. He always had the best intentions without expecting anything in return, it was his nature.
It was bedtime for the Baltics, Toris was the last one standing because he was not sleepy, so he decided to do something and because of the cold, he thought it would be good to bring hot chocolate for Ivan and his sister. He would like to see her again before going to bed. Maybe he would dream of her and have one happy minute inside that prison of fear. However, when he reached the entrance to the office, balancing the tray on one hand so he would be able to knock the door, he heard an exalted discussion, unable to discern any word, until the outcome.
"Brat, I'm not bluffing." Natalia's voice was so serious that it was almost unrecognizable. "If these are just lies…"
"I'll do it." Ivan hesitated a little before retorting.
"Great! I need to talk to Yakaterina now. Poka Poka, moi dorogoi."
The door opened suddenly, startling Toris who almost knocked the tray on the floor. When Natalia saw him, an evil aura permeated the place, but then again, Toris did not notice it. His heart ached too much. Dorogoi?
"N-Natalia..." he muttered.
"Umri, idiot." she hissed, going straight to the stairs to the upper floor, where hers and her sister's room were located.
Did it hurt? Yes, it hurt. She cursed him? It was the first time he heard such a thing from her. He did know that in the end he would never be with Natalia, she would never look in his direction, but that did not stop him from dreaming and every time it was confirmed that she had eyes only for Ivan, after all, a small hole opened in his heart. Toris suspected that if he could see it, it would look like a bloody red Swiss cheese.
"What are you doing here?"
The Lithuanian awoke from his reverie, shaking his head, finally noticing the weight on his arms. Ivan was standing on his feet, leaning against the desk, while staring at him in a frown.
"Oh, I'm sorry." He muttered. "I came to bring hot chocolate. I thought it would be good... because it's cold— but— uh—"
He did not want to talk. At that time, he only wanted to go to sleep at once.
"You can leave it there." Ivan said pointing vaguely at the desk as he walked away from it so he could look out the window.
Toris did what he was told in silence, after that headed for the exit.
"Excuse me."
"Wait." Ivan turned back. "Close the door and come here, okay?"
That sounded really bad. Toris felt his body begin to tremble. No, no, no. Still, he obeyed and approached the desk. Ivan skirted it, calm as ever, but he had not the usual smile on his face – he really looked tired. Then he walked towards Toris, too close. Just too close. The Lithuanian began to move away backwards, only to be trapped against the shelf crammed with books.
"Please don't..." he did not know what he was asking for; he only knew he was afraid.
The Russian put his hand on the shelf next to the head of the Lithuanian, eliminating any chance of escape. A chill ran down Toris' spine. Why was he so close? There was definitely something wrong there. Had he been drinking again?
"You'll be mine today." he said and any sensible being would notice that there was something very strange in Ivan's face and voice, however Toris was just too scared to notice and think about it.
"What?" he froze. Did he hear it right?
"You'll be mine, Toris." Ivan's breath bushed his cheek, but there was no way he could move away. Ivan really had been drinking again. "I want you to be mine."
"Y-yours?" his voice was so low he had to repeat. "Yours? Y-you mean... you want... you want... us to...?"
"Da."
Toris's heart skipped a beat. It was a joke, was not it? No, every single nonsense coming from Ivan was possible. But wait... Natalia liked him... Toris had loved that girl for ages... he could not accept such a betrayal. But before he could even protest, Ivan kissed him. No more, no less. No, Toris could not allow that kind of excess. He had already endured too much.
"You can't do that!" he departed Ivan by stretching out his arms, his palms against his chest, while closing his eyes. "I don't..."
"Sorry, but you have no choice." Ivan jerked him across the room, shoving him against the desk.
Toris fell, knocking down and getting himself hurt in what was there, including the china he brought the chocolate in, but he had no time to feel his pain or his skin probably burned by the hot liquid, because the Russian began to take off his clothes to stress. The brunette guy panicked, trying to hold the blonde's arms to stop him, but his strength was feeble close to him. He could not believe what was happening. No... it was not.
"Stop... please." He pleaded in a low voice, but that has not stopped Ivan from proceeding.
And if Toris had thought he had already gone through all the bad things Ivan could give him... well, he was just too wrong.
The Lithuanian was the first to wake up the next morning, feeling a sharp pain in his whole body. He lay staring at the ceiling out of focus for a moment, until he turned his head and saw that face so close to his... oh, Dieve, Ivan? His memory was hazy, but gradually recovered in flashback memories of the night he would give anything to forget. He rose with difficulty and left Ivan where he was – on the floor, under the coat they whore as blanket during the rest of the night and headed for the bathroom to wash his body. It took him a really long time to wash the and all the disgusting things Ivan left in him together with the skin away, he rubbed it all with a wadding until his body was all sensitive, but he did not feel less dirty when he left the bathroom. Goddamned life.
He opened his eyes only to see Ivan closing his own, when the warm liquid filled the smaller guy's insides for the second time. Disgusting, disgusting. The Russian still stocked poorly against Toris' body before sliding out, allowing his semen to run down the other man's leg to the table, leaving him with a strange feeling of emptiness.
Ivan seemed disappointed, as he stared at the Lithuanian's face, who for the first time managed to sustain his gaze (he felt just too empty to even feel embarrassment), then Ivan reached his cock and slid his hand up and down. Toris wanted to yell at him to stop, that he did not want that, but he could not find his voice.
After that second time, Ivan seemed willing to do so he could enjoy as well. Toris did not understand. Did he care about how he felt now? He was doing it wrong. He did not want any of that! He felt very disgusted by the whole situation so he would never be able to enjoy it, couldn't that guy understand that?
"I don't want to hurt you, Toris..." he gasped.
The Lithuanian was too broken inside to even think about what he heard or to even understand the reason for that sad tone of voice. He tried to relax so that would end sooner; he closed his eyes and tried to recall the time he was "married" to a certain Polish guy, he tried to think of Natalia, but it was almost offensive to think of her in such a situation, then he finally tried to think only about the organic sensation of the friction of Ivan's skin on his own skin.
It had been so long since he had intimate contact with anyone that he could not even remember how it felt like. It must be good. It must be... Slowly and with difficulty, he felt the blood flow increase in the lower region and a forming knot in his stomach. He closed his eyes and heard the wet and nasty sound of the decreasing friction down there – because Ivan used his pre-cum to slide his hand up and down more easily – then a strangled groan slipped from his throat, when he came into the hand that touched him.
Now Toris was dirty too.
"See? It wasn't that bad…" muttered the Russian, still a little breathless.
It wasn't so bad? Unwillingly, Toris opened his eyes and stared blankly at that face too close to his, shiny with sweat, the same way he felt his face was. He saw no traces of remorse, or even that he perceived the pain he caused to the younger man, what the hell was that? There was anger in the bottom of Toris' chest, but life had been so unfair to him so that he had never learned to externalize it like any normal person would – screaming, cursing, beating – then his anger poured out liquid through his eyes, that did not happen in a long, long time. Bastard.
"Toris, you... you're crying? I didn't really want to hurt you..." the Russian whispered in his soft voice that matched nothing to his appearance, while putting a hand on Toris' face.
He didn't want...? He was such a hypocrite, indeed. Was that what he actually wanted to see, was not it? Pure raw pain. Toris never cried in front of him before, then maybe he would stop now... well, if he did not, it wouldn't matter after all. He had gone through everything in the hands of Ivan, he had felt all kinds of pain, he had been through a great deal of abuse, been humiliated and now he even lost all his sense of masculinity... It does not matter whether or not he was crying. Did he still have anything to lose?
He hated him. He hated him.
"Toris?"
"I hate you..." his voice was a tired little roar. "I hate you!"
Ivan looked at him for a while, as if he was slowly absorbing what he had heard. Toris just had that feeling because he didn't even want to see the other man's face. Oh, he had succeeded, had he not? One-way ticket to hell...
Yes, he did it. The Russian pulled his legs apart and pushed in again, harsher, harder, harder than before. This time, Toris could not contain his voice, he cried out in surprise and then in pain, along with every thrust, then Ivan kissed him to muffle these sounds. The Lithuanian tried to kick and struggle, but the other man held his arms down. He yielded nothing. So he finally gave up.
The first time was not the last one.
And every day had become like hell.
Because, even if it did not happen every day, that made fear become his most faithful companion. He wished he could do something, take it out on anything, even on himself, so he would dig his own nails in his own skin and scratch until he could see his own blood. He had to suffer in silence because the shame was too huge to let others know and, no, Toris could no longer look properly on Natalia's face when they bumped into each other – he was no longer a man worthy to even want to be with her. He could not even protect himself, let alone a girl. And Ivan still insisted on trying to make Toris enjoy that, so he always came up with some new weirdness...
Perhaps hell was an understatement.
If you got here, thank you very much O.o
It was supposed to be a one-shot, but it grew and grew and we'll have a few more chaps.
Meanwhile, please be good and leave me a comment ^^
Дотянуться до тебя (Dotyanutsya do tebya) – reaching you.
Pragaras žemėje (Lithuanian) – hell on Earth.
Priviet – hello
Da – yes
Pozhaluista – please
Brat – brother
Poka poka, moi dorogoi – see you later, my darling
Dorogoi – darling
Umri, idiot. – die, idiot.
Dieve (Lithuanian) – God