NoticedChapter Three –Economic Policy

Author: Queen Celestia

Betareader: lividlillies

Warnings: Erm sex. Some of it unwanted.

AN: If you want to know more about Canadian/American economic policies and the like, I suggest Mel Hurtigs 'The Truth About Canada'.

Xxxxxxx

The urge to sneeze was what made Ivan wake up. Something was continuously tickling his nose, rubbing it just right there and if he did not rectify the situation right away – he tried to move his arm, but something heavy was resting there, and his eyes popped open with a start.

Where was he, what was going on, and…

His view was a mass of golden hair. Shifting, he managed to take in the scene, a strange one. A very naked Canadian was wrapped around him, leg in between his, arms clamped around him as if he were a giant pillow, head nestled securely under his chin. Ivan could feel a throbbing erection clearly against his thigh, as well as the imprint of the glasses on his skin.

He wasn't sure why he felt calmly amused that the Canadian had forgotten to remove his glasses – so tired that he couldn't even think properly? Must have been, no one would want to wake up next to him in the morning.

Sex was a transaction of body, a relief of tension, before quickly parting ways and acting as if it had never happened.

It wasn't that he hadn't wanted someone to stay, it was the look in their eyes.

The dark hate Toris would look at him with would make him dismiss him from his bedroom after. Ivan wondered what look those violet eyes would hold when they opened. He half wanted the man to forever stay asleep, or at least release his death grip on him so that he could slip away and not have to look at the 'morning after'.

Hopes were dashed, as the eyelashes twitched, and slowly purple eyes opened up, before blearily focusing somewhere on his right shoulder. Sharpening, the eyes slowly roved up before focusing on his face, confusion there, before slowly being cleared.

"Morning." A mumble, before mouth quirked into a smile, "F'rgot to take my glasses off."

The grip loosened, as the Canadian rolled onto his back fully, and stretched, not seeming to care at all that they were both quite naked, or the dried cum on his body. In fact, he eyed his erection, before looking quite blatantly to Ivan's morning glory.

"What time is it?" came the out of the blue question.

Ivan stared, still unsure on what was happening, as he watched the lithe body twist and turn, before leaning over him to stare at the complimentary digital clock on the night table. He watched as a sly grin stole over the Canadians face, before having his attention directed to the pink erect nipple that was in his direct line of vision.

The warm body shifted again, until the Canadian was laying beside him on his side, facing him.

"Come on, face me."

An order. Ivan frowned, he didn't like getting orders, especially so early in the morning.

Cajoling hands flitted to his body, a finger pressing against a slowly hardening nipple, before slipping onto his side, and gently tugging.

"Please?"

With a sigh, indicating that he didn't like the order, Ivan followed it anyways, ignoring the Canadian's soft chuckle.

"What are you planning to do?" Ivan grumbled, shuddering lightly as a hand cupped his ass, and gently attempted to push him closer. When that didn't work, the Canadian scooched himself closer, until their chests met, and their erections rubbed against each other.

"Saying goodmorning," came the murmur, as a kiss was pressed against the rough stubble of Ivan's chin.

A warm hand wrapped around their erections, pressing them together, before the Canadian began to lazily move, his dick rubbing up against Ivan's.

Getting the idea, Ivan began to move, taking a few moments to get the perfect rhythm. It was strange, but pleasant, the rubbing of the two erections, neither in too much of a hurry to cum, or even change what they were doing.

The soft kisses along his jaw line, before the firm kiss on his mouth, Ivan found himself enjoying as well, the entire relaxed early morning atmosphere was something he had not been expecting at all.

"Wrap your hand around our dicks," came the whisper, "Provide more friction."

Deciding he didn't mind this order, Ivan did as told, his larger hand partially covering the Canadian's, as he gripped closer to the base, forcing the Canadian's hand to move a little further up, feeling smaller fingers brushing and teasing against the tip of their frotting dicks.

Squeezing harder, their frotting became more wild, until with a cry, the Canadian came first, with the Russian not long after.

Harsh breathing filled the room, as well as a languid laziness. Hands still entwined, the Canadian rested his forehead against the Russian's cheek, recovering, acting as if they had all the time in the world.

Their cum, hot and sticky, was cooling, and Ivan found he didn't mind the fact that his hand was covered in the stuff, hell, his hand was still covering the Canadian's and some of their fingers were entertwined, something that Ivan found rather strange. It also made a strange feeling heat up in the pit of his stomach, something that had nothing to do with sex.

A loud bang, followed by, the loud shout of "MATTY! HURRY UP!" jolted them, completely ruining any type of glowy after effect. Another loud bang, followed by a crash as the door splintered.

Fortunately for them, they had decided to get off in Ivan's room... however the unnervingly loud swearing from the room beside them was a little too close for comfort.

Looking over to Ivan, whom he had immediately moved away from, Matthew seemed to be apologizing profusely without saying any words, as if paranoid that if he opened his mouth his brother would suddenly gain super hearing and realize that he was just next door.

Quite suddenly the Death March began to play, somewhere in amongst the pile of clothes, and Ivan watched with some amusement as Matthew practically dived onto the ground, and dug out a phone from the jean pocket.

"H-hello?" came the timid greeting.

"MATTHEW!" Alfred was so loud they could hear him in the other room. "Where are you bro? I thought we were supposed to have breakfast together? I'm huuuuuuuuuuungry."

Smiling a little, Matthew gave a shaky laugh, and smoothly lied, "I went for a walk, I'll meet you there in ten minutes, k?"

There was a pause, and then, "Better be there in ten minutes or else I'm starting without you!"

Shutting his phone, Matthew gave a sort of wry shrug to Ivan, continuing to sit on the floor as they heard Alfred leave, his footsteps heavy, down the hallway.

Standing up, completely unselfconscious of his body, Matthew picked up his clothes, before he turned to Ivan. "Can I borrow your shower?"

Giving a nod, Ivan watched Matthew disappear, tempted himself to follow.

But his contemplation was cut sort, for after five minutes Matthew emerged freshly washed and clothed.

Eyes scanning the room, Matthew put on his shoes, before giving Ivan a curt nod and leaving.

Xxxxxxxxxx

"I told you I would start without you."

Matthew sat down across from his brother, eyeing the giant mass of ordered food with some apprehension.

"Is any of this for me?" he asked, smoothing down his white shirt. He was only about three minutes late – being thankful that he had arranged their breakfast to be in the hotels restaurant.

"Course… I mean we can always order more if there isn't enough." Came his brothers semi reasonable reply.

Taking the plate of waffles, Matthew drizzled a small portion with syrup, his nose crinkling up in slight distaste as he realized it was the cheap butter flavoured syrup. Geh!

Bending over to his suitcase, Matthew popped it open and took out a small bottle of Apricot Syrup. Closing his suitcase, he sat up again, before pouring the syrup over his waffles –

"OH MY GOD." Alfred shouted, causing the Canadian to jump in his seat slightly.

"Eh?"

"Did you just take syrup out of your suitcase?" Alfred snatched the syrup out of Matthews hand, his eyes widening, "And.. this isn't Maple?"

Matthew scowled, "You take hamburgers out of your pocket – and whats wrong with Apricot syrup?"

"But…" Alfred frowned suspiciously across at his brother, "You always use maple syrup. Hey… are you really Matty?"

Giving a sigh, Matthew replied, "I do eat other syrup – Apricot is quite delicious. And yes I really am your brother, do you want me to state aloud some embarrassing stories involving a certain pink dress?"

Flushing, Alfred put the syrup down, "No…"

Smirking slightly, Matthew grabbed the syrup back and put the rest onto his pancakes. "You sure?"

"Yeah..." Clearing his throat slightly, Alfred changed the topic. "So how long do you think todays meeting will last?" He asked, however, due to his mouth being full of food, it sounded more like. "hsfmhn infon sfger mggnt?" or something like that.

Due to years of experience, Matthew understood the question perfectly and replied, "There are about four more speakers, so probably until four."

Alfred made a pained expression, which clearly indicated his disapproval on the matter.

"It's not that bad," Matthew chided, "After today the meetings will be over."

"Oh yeah!" Alfred quickly swallowed, and he seemed to squirm in his seat in excitement, "I picked up some awesome horror movies, and I was hoping, since I'm staying tonight, that we could hang out in your room and watch them together! You're not busy right?"

The look Alfred gave him clearly indicated that Alfred didn't think Matthew was busy at all, which, quite honestly, was true.

"Uhmmm sure." To be honest Matthew wanted to begin lecturing Alfred on the fact he had broken the door open – something which gave him many odd looks when he mentioned it at the front desk, and which he had a creeping feeling the hotel manager wanted to talk to him about – but knew he couldn't bring it up quite yet due to him not wanting to admit, ever, that he had just fucked Russia.

The less Alfred knew about his sex life the better. Especially since Alfred seemed to be under the assumption that Matthew was some sort of virgin saint, preferring martyrdom to letting a clitoris or prostate make their way anywhere near his vital regions. Well… a virgin saint until Alfred said so.

Pushing some waffle into his mouth, Matthew looked over to his brother, and felt a sinking feeling in his stomach as he noticed that his brother looked a little more serious with a touch of crafty. A look that never bode well for him.

"Also, I was wondering if I could use some of my 30% this morning."

"Eh?" Matthew nearly choked on his waffle, taking a moment, to clear his airway, his face burning a brilliant red as he added in a rather furious whisper, "What do you mean!"

"Well, I'm feeling edgy... Actually I came to your room this morning, cuz I wanted to do it then, but then you were out walking or something? So what about after breakfast?" Alfred looked expectantly at his brother, looking quite as if this were just an everyday matter.

"But I still want to prepare –"

Alfred snorted, "Why else do you think I would get up so early? Come on Matty, pllleaaaase? What's the point of owning so much of your resources if you won't put out now and then?"

"Keep your voice down Alfred!" Matthew hissed, his body trembling with embarrassment.

Alfred looked around the room derisively, "Oh come on, they probably don't know what we mean." His fingers tapped against the table top impatiently, "Are you done yet? I've finished mine."

Matthew stared down at the food on his plate, his appetite suddenly gone. "But I don't want to." Came the whisper.

Leaning in, Alfred's voice was low as he whispered his ace, "If you don't agree I'll just sue your government."

"Wha- you wouldn't –" Matthew replied his heart thudding. Shit.

Alfred smirked, "You know it's legal."

"F-fine. But only if you fix my door, ok?" Matthew replied with some defeat.

"Sure." The American leaned back in his chair, "Hey waiter, cheque please."

Once the cheque was settled, they made their way to Matthews room; unenthusiastically in Matthew's case.

To be honest he was pissed off at the people running his country, had been for a long time. Idiots, who ever thought that signing NAFTA had been a good idea? And that dumb ass law where an American company could sue his government? Holy fuck, he had idiots in power. To be honest he half expected to wake up one day and be informed he had been absorbed somewhere into Alfred's fat backside. Oh joy, the thought of joining the obviously failing idealistic American dream made him giddy with suicidal thoughts.

Reaching his room, Matthew stared at his door.

It had been fixed.

Glancing over to his brother, who looked equally surprised, Matthew said, "Hotel staff must be rather speedy, eh?"

His brother walked up to the door and inspected the work. "Yeah, better for me! Hurry up and open the door, Matty."

"Yeah, yeah," the other pulled the keys out of his pocket, finding it a little odd that when he went to open the door, it was already unlocked.

Entering his room, Matthew quickly scanned it, feeling as if there was still someone there. However he didn't see anyone, and when Alfred didn't mention anything, he decided he was just being a little paranoid.

He turned his eyes to his brother, violet carefully assessing and plotting, as he said, "So how much?"

Alfred shrugged, "Well, I guess a blowie?"

"Alright." Matthew licked his lips, before sitting on the edge of the bed. He removed his glasses, and carefully placed them onto the bedside table. A movement caught his attention, but his vision was blurry, so he figured it was nothing.

Alfred quickly unbuckled his pants, his cock springing out already erect.

Licking his lips, Matthew reached out, and held the cock gently, nuzzling against it. His brother was a bit of a 'wham bam thank you ma'am' type of guy, but now and then, a little touch of foreplay didn't go amiss. Plus, if Matthew tried to rush things, Alfred would notice, and he really did not want to deal with Guantanamo Bay mode.

Flicking his tongue out, he licked the tip of the penis, the precum already collecting in Alfred's apparent excitement.

Matthew wished he could close his eyes, but his brother had this weird ass thing about eye contact, wanting to know for sure that Matthew hadn't gone off into some strange fantasy land, that instead, he knew that Matthew knew he was sucking Grade A American Cock.

Which, of course, meant Matthew learnt to fantasize with his eyes open.

Matthews mind went on automatic, and he found himself thinking about the day's presentation, going over things he needed to mention, and perhaps passively aggressively disagreeing with everything Denmark suggested.

Trying to hide his surprise, so as to not raise suspicion in his brother, Matthew nearly choked as his mouth filled with semen.

Swallowing (for Alfred took pride in proclaiming in having the best jizz in the world and got more irritating if Matthew spat it out), Matthew wiped his mouth, and looked at his brother expectantly.

The look in Alfred's eyes informed Matthew that he wasn't satisfied. Glancing at the still hard cock, Matthew inwardly groaned.

Fuck my life.

"So… any good?" Matthew timidly asked, attempting his best to become invisible.

"Nawwww… I wanna do it full hog." Alfred replied pushing his pants further down.

"… Anal?" Matthew replied, hoping his brother didn't hear the hitch in his voice. Fuck! Thank goodness he had washed, otherwise he would be seriously fucked, and not the good fucked.

For some reason, Alfred had some delusion that Matthew only had sex with him, and that otherwise, he was an Ice Queen. If Alfred were ever to find out that in reality Matthew was a bit of a man ho… well.

Shit would happen.

"Yeah, course." Alfred replied, "Get in position, we're running low on time."

"…. But… I haven't done it in a while." Matthew lied. It was true. He had skilfully avoided his brother for a good three months now concerning these matters.

"…. I'll sue." Came the response.

Fucking maple on a stick, Matthew thought angrily as he stood up and unbuckled his pants, it was as if Alfred only ever had sex with him!

Carefully removing his pants, he laid them aside. "Don't mess me up, eh."

Reaching into the drawer, Matthew pulled out some lube, something he had put there in hopes of, well... sex with someone more pleasurable.

"Prepared for me?" Alfred asked, the smugness clear in his tone.

Flushing, Matthew nodded, pouring the lube onto his hand.

Walking over to the bed, Matthew looked over to his brother, hoping it was sort of coy, as he inserted his lubed fingers into himself.

It was sort of a good thing he had fucked Russia, came his thought. Since Russia was such a big fucker, he was still rather loose, so preparing himself for Alfred (who was smaller by a long shot), went rather easily.

Once he was sure he was ready, he kneeled on the bed, and then obediently looked over to Alfred.

"I'm ready."

"Awesome!" came the reply, as Alfred crawled onto the bed and positioned himself behind Matthew.

Feeling the cock press up against him, Matthew took a breath as his brother pushed in, and then waited.

"You ok Mattie? You seem sort of tense." Worried hands brushed up against the bare sides, where the shirt had ridden up due to the position.

Releasing his breath, Matthew replied, "I'm fine, Al." To prove it, he pushed back.

"If you're sure…" Alfred seemed to still hold doubt, but, decided to believe his brother and began to fuck him.

Just actions, motions, Matthew thought, keeping his body relaxed, allowing himself to feel pleasure from this. That was another thing about Alfred, he always liked to make sure that Matthew had enjoyed himself.

His brother wasn't that bad, after some practise, he had actually gotten rather good at knowing what got him off.

A hand reached around and grabbed his dick, Matthew involuntarily letting out a groan.

"Yeah, that's right," Alfred panted, "Let it out."

The thrusts shifted and hit Matthews prostate, causing him to fall into the sex entirely, not caring who, what, when or where, as he let himself go, his voice echoing around the room passionately.

Their bodies joined together, Matthew felt himself release, his body clenching tightly around his brothers, causing a chain reaction.

Fluids filled his inside, and he felt his brothers cock withdraw.

With a flump, Alfred fell onto the bed, his breathing heavy.

Careful not to get jizz on his shirt, Matthew sat up, feeling tired.

His brother snorted. "Paranoid about your clothes?" A hand reached out, and teasingly pulled on the dress shirt.

"Fuck off, eh?" Matthew mumbled, as he looked at his dishevelled brother.

"Again so soon Mattie?" Alfred joked, "You're a tiger!"

Flushing, Matthew pulled away from his brothers reach, and stood up.

"I'm going to go clean up, we have our meeting soon." Came the mumble, as he awkwardly waddled to the bathroom, the cum dripping out onto his thigh.

"Alright." Came the sigh, as his brother sat up.

Entering the bathroom, Matthew removed his shirt, feeling a little silly that he had worn it at all, as he climbed into the shower.

Turning the water on, he stepped in, and yet again, thoroughly washed himself.

"Mattie," a voice called into the bathroom, "I gotta get going."

"Oh yeah?" he responded, hoping that the other didn't hear his voice crack, "I'll see you at the meeting, eh?"

"Yeah! Course." Came his brothers too chipper reply.

Matthew stuck his head out of the shower, and he carefully listened until he heard the door close, indicating his brother had left.

Switching the water off, Matthew stepped out onto the bath mat, and wrapped himself in a towel.

His reflection caught his eye, and he let out a sigh.

"Next time I'll tell him…." His voice drifted off, "What though?"

Running his fingers in his damp hair, he felt bleak.

There really was nothing he could do. He couldn't refuse his brother, not with those damn policies in place.

NAFTA hadn't really benefited him at all, it had only caused the money to be restructured into 1% of the population, and even then, the money that did get made was sent out of country.

All those promises, strewn across the floor like broken glass. Sometimes Matthew wondered if Alfred had purposely forced the agreements to go his way, to tie his hands. Force him into submission.

Fuck his life. He was just a joke of a country, wasn't he?

Rubbing his eyes, he took his towel and aggressively began to dry his hair, pretending that the wet of his cheeks was the flicking shower water. But then he let out a sob, something that wouldn't allow him to pretend it was alright to go on like this.

Slowly, he sank against the floor, the cool tiles pressing against his bare skin. He wondered if he was shivering because he was cold or if it was just a slip in self-control.

What a pathetically weak nation he was, to so easily fall into these things, he was thinking.

"Are you alright?"

The question caused Matthew to swear loudly, and drop the towel, wide violet eyes growing in horror as he realized that Ivan had entered the bathroom, pipe in hand.

"Tabernac! Wha-what are you doing here?" came the whispered shout, as he angrily dashed his tears away. No one was supposed to see him like this, it would ruin what little reputation he had.

"I fixed your door, and then you came in with America, so I hid." Came the simple reply as the large Russian crouched down onto the floor beside him. He had a childish look of concern as his gloved hand reached out and held Matthew's wrist, stopping him from brushing away his tears. "Why?"

"Eh?"

"Why would you allow him to do that?" Ivan's curiosity seemed genuine, his confusion displayed clearly across his face.

"Ah uh…" Matthew wasn't sure what to say, as he desperately tried to pull himself together, before mumbling, "I can't.. uh…"

He could feel his words disappearing, as his lower lip trembled, and the tears began again.

Roughly, he felt himself pulled up against the white dress shirt, a large arm wrapping around him.

"Don't worry, just let big brother Russia take care of you, da?" came the calming whisper.

All Matthew could think was that Ivan's body happened to be surprisingly warm, and he felt himself melt in, feeling strangely comforted by the childish man.