"Ivan… Ivan that hurts! Please, take it out…"
"It is alright, my little Bolshevik. You are doing wonderfully right now."
Yao's breath was coming out in hot, ragged breaths. His skin was flushed a soft pink color, and it was slicked with sweat. He gave a strangled yelp as Ivan buried himself deeper into his body. His brown eyes snapped closed and he gripped the sheets to the point where he thought they may tear. As the Russian moved within him, he gave another shout of pain.
"Shh, it is alright. It will feel so much better very soon Bolshevik." Ivan cooed, brushing Yao's face with his thumb. The larger man stayed still, giving Yao a chance to adjust himself to the throbbing heat that was filling him up inside. The smaller man continued to pant and hiss beneath him, gasping every time Ivan shifted himself. He gave a tiny whimper.
"Move. Please, move." He begged, his voice coming out in a ragged whisper. He cried out when Ivan pulled out of him, slowly pressing himself back into Yao's tight heat. The motion was repeated, and eventually a slow rhythm was created between them. The smaller man gasped and shuddered with every thrust into him. He felt like he was going to burst, so full of Ivan's heat.
Yao brought both hands up to his face, covering his charcoal colored eyes from view. He arched his back into a pleasured curve; the pain finally melting away into nothingness. He gave a shout, and this time it was one of pleasure; not pain. Red, throbbing waves of heat and pleasure coursed throughout his body; seeming to invade his very blood and pump through his veins. Yet at the same time, Yao could feel burning tears bubbling into the corners of his eyes.
He gasped as Ivan grasped one of his arms, his ungloved fingers hot against his flesh. "Bolshevik, why are you hiding your eyes from me?" He asked, bringing his thrusts to a stop. "I want to see your face right now."
With that, he pulled one of Yao's hands away from his head. He could see the other man's eyes now, charcoal irises filled with shimmering tears. He looked up at him, the salty tears brimming over onto the flushed skin of his cheeks. Ivan bent down, placing a kiss on his sweat-slicked flesh.
"Why are you crying?" He questioned. "Does it hurt you? I can stop now." He offered. Yao shook his head, taking his hands away from his face entirely.
"N-no!" He made out. He hiccupped through his wet tears. Right now, he wanted more than anything to Ivan how he felt. He wasn't going to deny the emotions. Not now, when his mind was swirling with alcohol and lust. He wanted to cling to the larger man, scream his name and tell him he loved him. But in the back of his mind, he knew that this was sex; and nothing else to Ivan. It couldn't ever be anything like he wished he wished it to be. "Please, keep going! Don't stop…"
Ivan complied. He brought back his slow pace, quickly replacing it with a higher one. Yao's cries grew higher in pitch as he felt Ivan thrusting deep into his body, harder and faster every time. The Russian's voice soon joined his, creating a duet of ecstasy. A burning heat was growing between them, a bright flame of lust and need that would make even hell seem cold. It grew larger and hotter, engulfing them entirely. Their voices melted together into one, exchanging sighs and moans, along with the empty words of affection that cane between them. In one final moment, they burst.
The two nations fell over the edge and onto each other. Their breaths were labored and ragged, coming out in hot pants. No words were exchanged between them, only soft brushes and strokes that said everything. Yao felt his heart collapse, knowing that three unspoken words had slipped away from him as he finally lost himself to sleep.
…
One thought came into Yao's mind when he first regained consciousness the next morning. Hurt. Everything was sore, from his throbbing skull to his rear end. Especially his rear end, actually. He let out a tired groan, his hand subconsciously reaching for his back. Thankfully, the scar was still closed; just a patch of rough flesh now. He opened his eyes, hefting himself up onto one elbow.
For a moment, he swore that his heart had stopped beating. Ivan was lying beside him, still held within a peaceful slumber. Yao was panicked for a short moment, before he remembered his recurring dream. This must be another one, he supposed. Visions of waking up next to the Russian in the morning were a common visitor to him at night. This one had just become lucid, meaning he had some control over what happened.
He sat himself back down onto the mattress. He watched Ivan's face, his violet eyes hidden behind snow white lashes. He inched himself closer, so that their noses were only inches apart. He could have purred at the feel of his warm flesh. The giant's heart was thudding away slowly, and Yao enjoyed the soft sound. He sat there for a few moments, silently admiring the man lying with him. He had almost fallen asleep once again, when he let out a small sigh. "You know… I kind of wish that this wasn't a dream for once." He muttered.
He jumped a little when Ivan shifted. He had never done this in one of his dreams before. The larger nation's eyes fluttered open. His violet gaze met Yao's amber one. "What dream…?" He asked, his voice still sounding sleepy.
Yao shot up, a look of horror crossing his face. Ivan blinked at him stupidly for a moment, before his brain managed to collect itself. His eyes widened with sudden realization. Memories of the night before hit the two of them; sending shockwaves throughout their minds.
"Oh my god." Yao said, for lack of a better phrase. Ivan lifted himself up, bringing himself into a sitting position besides him. Burning tears of shame welled up in the corners of Yao's eyes. "Ivan, we had sex last night." He said.
Ivan frowned, silently nodding. "Da. We did." He said. He looked away, too ashamed of himself and his actions the night before to look Yao in the eyes. "Little Bolshevik, I am so sorry." He apologized. Yao shook his head.
"No. Ivan, don't apologize." He said. "The two of us were drunk. It was just a mistake… I share every bit as much of blame as you." He told him. Ivan nodded.
"I suppose you are right." Ivan agreed. They sat in an ominous silence for a few moments, refusing to even look in the other's direction. "We should try to put this incident behind us now. It would be for the best." He suggested. Yao shook his head up and down in silent agreement. He swung his feet over the side of the bed, turning his back to Ivan.
"I'll… I'll go ahead and leave now." Yao said. He gathered up his clothing, strewn about Ivan's bedroom floor. He tried to replace it in the fastest, least awkward way he could. Which unfortunately, was an impossible idea. He was sent all around the room looking for Items of lost clothing. Once he was fully dressed again he went to the door. Ivan spoke then.
"Bolshevik. I would like for you to call me when you return home. I want to know that you made it back safely." He said. Yao took one look over his shoulder, and he nodded. Without saying another word, he left. The door closed with a soft click behind him; and the Russian man was left sitting alone. Ivan stared at the doorway for a moment, before he sat himself back down onto the mattress. It was still warm where Yao had been lying before. He placed a palm on his forehead, and gave a loud sigh. "What have I done…?"
Yao left Ivan's mansion as fast as he could. He was very thankful for the fact that nobody else had decided to spend the night, and had taken to skulking around the wide hallways. He didn't encounter a soul as he made his departure, and he spoke to no one when he boarded the returning train. Whether his mind had gone blank, or if it was simply too full to function, he wasn't sure.
Once he finished his trip and returned home, he made a beeline for his bedroom. He drew the curtains so the setting sun wouldn't peer in on him. He sat down on his mattress, and he couldn't help but think of how different it felt from Ivan's own. He looked down, replaying every second of the night before in his head. Everything from the moment he stepped in the Russian's doors, to the moment he fell asleep in his grasp. Ivan had been so warm, to the point where it felt like his skin was burning beneath his fingers.
Just thinking about it made Yao feel unbearably hot. He couldn't help himself. He sat himself back; sliding his already hardened member out of his pants. He tried to relive the night before; attempting to replicate the feeling of Ivan's hands with his own. He knew it was impossible. His small fingers couldn't hope to copy Ivan's long ones. All he was left with was the memory of his touch. He came with a shuddering cry, a sense of loneliness washing over him.
He let out a loud sob. He knew that every word of affection that had escaped the other nation's lips before were a lie. Just hollow syllables created by lust and drink, and nothing more. They could never be anything more. "God damnit!" He shouted at no one.
"Ivan…" His voice dropped to a soft whisper. "Oh god, I love you." He said, admitting it for the very first time. His confession didn't make him feel better. He ran a hand through his hair, still undone.
He remembered Ivan's request from that morning. He didn't want to talk to him right now, but he definitely didn't want to make the other man worry over him. He leveled his breath and composed himself. He went to the telephone, his fingers lingering for a moment before he dialed the number. The phone rang for a long while. He was ready to hang up when he heard a soft clicking noise come from the other end.
"Privyet?" Ivan's voice came from the other end. Just hearing the Russian's voice was enough to make Yao's skin crawl.
"It's me." He made out, assuming that Ivan would know him by voice alone.
"Ah, hello Bolshevik." Ivan greeted him. "I am assuming you made it home safely?" He said. Yao knew Ivan was thousands of miles away; but the tension between them at that moment made it feel like they were inches apart.
"Yeah, I did." Yao replied. "It's nice back here. The weather's warm." He said idly, trying to lessen some of the pressure in the atmosphere.
"It would be much too hot and sticky for me then." Ivan told him. There was a brief moment of silence between them. "Are you feeling alright?" He asked. Yao took his fingers out of his hair. "I didn't… Did I hurt you?" Ivan asked him.
"No, no of course not." Yao told him. He remembered how gentle every touch had been. The taller man had treated him as if he was a piece of brittle glass.
"That's good." The Russian told him. Yao frowned on the other end.
"…Will you talk about it with me?" He asked. He needed so desperately to get it out of his system, out of his head. He got nervous when Ivan didn't reply for a moment.
"Yeah." He said. Yao let out a sigh of relief. "After this, we can forget it ever happened, da?"
"Sure." The Asian told him. He let out a long sigh. "I don't blame you for any of it. You seemed to act like it was your fault earlier." He said. While it was true that Ivan was the one to come onto him first, he let his better judgment slip away from him.
"Yes, I understand. I am only wishing that this won't ruin our friendship." Ivan stated. Yao allowed himself to laugh, just a little bit.
"Don't worry. This isn't the first time this has happened to me you know." He told the Russian. He left out the part that he had never been head over heels with the men, and occasional women, he had slept with after a little too much alcohol.
"The very same is true for me, but I've never made the mistake with a nation like myself." He said. Yao realized that he was right. This is the first time he had been in this situation. "I only hope that you'll forgive me for the whole thing." The Russian said.
"I'll forgive you, if you do the same for me." Yao told him.
"Da. I forgive you as well." Ivan said. Yao felt something pulling at him, knowing that Ivan viewed this as a mistake that wasn't to be spoken of, or repeated. "So we are still friends then?" He heard him ask from the other end of the line.
"Yeah." Yao told him. He curled a strand of hair with his finger again. "I think I should be getting to bed now, it's already dark here." He said.
"Alright then. I'll talk to you later, Bolshevik." Ivan said. Yao spoke before he could take the chance to hang up.
"Hey, Ivan. You're still welcome here." He told him. "Visit any time you want to, alright?" There was silence for a moment. Yao wondered if he had already hung up.
"I'll do that." Ivan told him. The Asian nation heard a soft click come from the other side. He let out a long sigh. When he had asked Ivan to talk about it with him, he thought it would have made things much less awkward. But right now, he felt like he had made the whole situation much worse. He gently placed the phone back on the receiver. For a short moment, he looked to the chair in the room where he stood. It was the same one he'd released his pent up passions in for the first time.
He sat down in it, frowning. It felt the same. There was nothing different about it, now that he had committed such a sin filled act upon it. His heart however, wasn't as lucky. Ever since last night, he had felt poisoned with the emotions he felt. They kept the inside of his chest clutched tightly. He left the room, moving instead to his own. It was humid outside right now, so he decided to throw the curtains wide open so that he could view the night sky.
The evening was beautiful, he thought. He would have much rather been lying outside right now, as he often did, but it was too sticky. There wasn't a single cloud in the sky, and the Moon was only a sliver. The stars were being counted upon to light the sky tonight, and they sparkled brighter than ever before. If only for the smallest moment, he felt content. He looked up as he saw something odd. Out of the very corners of his eye something shimmered.
Then, he saw it. The briefest flash of light, darting through the night sky. One of the stars had given up and fallen, and he had been lucky enough to see it. He remembered the old saying, that if you saw a falling star you were supposed to make a wish. He couldn't even remember who told him that. It had been so very long ago. Wishes couldn't come true just because you saw a flash of light. It was impossible. But even so, he closed his eyes and thought.
"I don't know what to wish for…" He muttered to himself. He gave the thought another long moment, and smiled. "I'll test this out, I suppose. I'll make a wish no star could ever grant." He said. He took a deep breath, and looked up at where he had seen the star coming shooting down.
"I wish that Ivan would love me back."
Screw it. I'm not editing this XD I had no idea what to do with this chapter after the smut! So everything afterwards is kind of crappy…. But I hope you guys enjoyed the naughty bits! It was fun to write them w Don't worry, I have plenty of ideas for the next chapter. So please, tell me what you thought by reviewing!