A/N: Sorry about the late update. I haven't had much internet access lately! I hope you enjoy the update!
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Russia reached across America and grabbed a bar of soap, lathering it in his hands. "So what shall we discuss first, Alfred?" he asked, voice barely above a whisper. He began to rub the soap across his own broad shoulders, wanting to reach out and rub the American's shoulders, but he knew he had to resist.
America took a bold chance and tried to look Russia in the eye. He instantly looked away, too intimidated by the other nation to get a word out. He focused his eyes on Russia's finely toned abs instead, trying not to let his eyes wander lower. "W-Well there are many things I think we should discuss, b-but first…" His voice trailed off, his eyes wandering lower to see that both he and Russia shared mutual feelings on being naked together.
The Russian smiled at America. "What do you say we relieve some of this built up sexual tension and then we'll talk?" he suggested, gesturing to his hips.
The younger nation absently nodded. "Yeah, sure," he said, mind already gone. It had been gone since the moment he laid eyes on Russia's erect member. He was just about beside himself, impressed to see how well-endowed his companion really was.
America's mind was immediately ripped back to reality as Russia gently, yet firmly, grasped his erect length and began to pump it, using the water from the showerhead as a lubricant. The younger nation moaned slightly as he closed his eyes, taking in the pleasure. His arms moved on their own, wrapping around the Russian's shoulders as he pulled him into a heated kiss.
Russian didn't exactly understand why America would want to kiss him, but he was all for it as he pleasured the man he was currently attracted to. He didn't mind it in the slightest as his other arm wrapped around America's waist and pulled him even closer, closing off the space between them.
The American didn't seem to mind being pressed against Russia, for he moaned out, "Ivan," when their shafts rubbed against each other's. His eyes fluttered open as he reached down with one hand and began returning the favor to the Russian. He didn't like the fact that he was the only one receiving pleasure at the time.
Russia's eyes widened when the other nation's hand wrapped around his throbbing length. He hadn't been expecting for America to do the same back just yet. In all honesty, he hadn't been prepared for the American to take action just yet. It was so sudden that he let out a low moan, startling America.
America's eyes opened wide. "Ivan, was that you?" he asked, watching as the Russian's face turned a deep shade of red. His voice was low and husky as he said, "Please make more noises like that for me." He then pulled Russia in for another heated kiss with the arm that was still wrapped around his shoulders.
All embarrassment had left the Russian. Everything that was left was lust. He was lusting so hard after America that it wasn't even funny. His body was practically screaming for more of the American. All he wanted at that moment was to just take America and make him his. But he knew there would be time for that after the shower. That was why America had invited him to the room anyway. Or at least he hoped there would be.
Once the two of them had hit their climax and washed themselves off, they got out of the shower and dressed themselves in the robes that were so courteously left in the bathroom for guests. America then grabbed Russia's hand and led him from the bathroom and to his personal bedroom, parading him in front of Frank while doing so.
Russian chuckled quietly to himself once they got to the room. "I must say, Alfred, you've got quite a spiteful aura about you."
"Well, Dmitry, if you were in my situation, you would as well," America responded with a shrug. He then stripped off the bathrobe after locking the door. "Just so you know, Frank is probably spying on us. He likes to do that because he's a filthy pervert who's still in the closet." He winked at his companion, letting him know that they had to talk in code once more.
"Then we should make sure to be extra loud," Russia answered in a seductive tone. "If we have an audience, we might as well please him as well."
The American growled a deep, throaty growl at Russia. "I love the way you think," he responded, voice dripping with lust. He had no idea how fun Russia really could be. At world meetings, he had never seen this side of him, but he was really starting to like it. All he could do was hope that he wouldn't fall for him.
But not falling for Russia was a lot for America to ask of himself. He knew that he was going to if this all kept up the way it was going. There was only so long that he could hold himself back, and that time span was starting to wear thin. Yet while he knew that, he was the one causing it to wear thin. Did he want to fall in love with the Russian?
That itself was dangerous territory, considering how competitive the two were. But if they could settle their differences, they could be one of the most amazing couples the world had ever seen. Or at least that was how America saw it. He didn't know how the other country felt about it, but as they made out on the hotel room bed, he liked to think it was the same.
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As they laid naked in the hotel room bed, the two whispered back and forth to each other, pretending that it was sweet pillow talk, but it was actually devising a plan, yet it had other things mixed into it.
"I had no idea that you were that great in bed," America commented to Russia. "I've seriously never had an experience quite like that."
Russia chuckled to himself. "Anytime, Alfred," he said, snuggling the American close. He wasn't quite ready to let America go yet. If he could, he would keep him there in his arms forever, but the universe would never allow something like that.
"Now for that plan," America said, voice dropping to a whisper. "I am locked in the Oval Office with Collins every single day. All day. It's god-awful, and I need help."
"Should I call in your brother to help as well? Maybe he could work as a decoy?"
America shook his head. "He doesn't have much of a presence," he admitted. "Trust me, he wouldn't be able to do much. You know, the last time I saw him, I was so mad at him. I feel bad about that now."
"You can't settle on things of the past," Russia reminded him. "I'm sure he knows that you're sorry, America. Try not to think about it right now. First, we need to come up with a plan. Isn't there some way you can leave the Oval Office?"
The younger nation sighed. "I really doubt it. I've been trying to think of plans myself." He rested his head on Russia's shoulder. "It's just that I have a couple moments at the end of the day where I could make a run for it, but I didn't have anyone to run to until today."
Russia smiled and kissed America's forehead. "Well now you do. Try to hang in there a couple more days for me so I can devise a getaway plan, Alfred."
"Since you're the one telling me that, then I will believe you," America softly said, snuggling closer to his lover for the night. "Stay in here with me tonight," he mumbled. "I don't want to be alone at night anymore like this."
"Okay," Russia softly said. He looked down at the sleepy nation and smiled. America didn't need to ask him to stay. He knew that he was going to stay there all night that night, not because America wanted him to, but because he knew he had no choice but to. Russia had officially fallen for the other nation.
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Russia and America woke the next morning, tangled in each other and the sheets, to Frank pounding on the door. Apparently it was time to go to the White House, though Frank never said those exact words. The words he used were, "Mr. Jones, you're going to be late for work!"
"Then let me be late!" America yelled back, snuggling back up to his naked lover. For some reason, he really didn't want to leave Russia's arms. Ever. Something about the Russian made him feel safe.
"Alfred, you really should go to work," Russia told him. "I can come back again tonight if you wish, and we can pick up where we left off."
America blushed. "Th-That would be great, Iva-Dmitry," he quickly corrected. He knew that Frank was listening in, so he added, "I'm so sorry. You just remind me of someone I know." His lips pressed against the Russian's. "Your clothes are still in the bathroom."
"Sir, I have his clothes in my hand," Frank called through the door.
"Aren't you just something special?" America scoffed. He got up and went to open the door, allowing Russia time to cover his lap. America was looking for reasons to scar Frank or intimidate him, so he threw open the door, naked, and accepted the clothing. "Thanks, Frank!" he cheerfully said before closing the door once again.
The younger nation walked over to his Russian companion. "I have your clothes, Dmitry," he said. He handed them over and walked over to the wardrobe to pick out what suit to wear that day. He knew he had to look professional whenever he was in the Oval Office. "I hate the clothes I have to wear for work."
"Do the ties choke you?" Russia asked, slipping on his boxers. He stood up and walked over to the wardrobe. "I could help you pick something out." His eyes rested on a tie that was the same shade of blue as Alfred's eyes. "Wear that tie," he quickly said, pointing at it.
America pulled the tie out of the wardrobe. "Why this one?" he asked, confused. "It's so old. It's almost as old as me." He then whispered, "England got this for me when I became independent. He got my brother one when he did as well, but his is a few shades darker."
"Don't you see?" the older nation asked, gently taking the tie from him. He turned America toward a full-length mirror and held the tie up next to his face. "This tie must have been specially made, because it matches your eyes perfectly."
America's eyes widened. "You're right," he breathed. "How did I never realize that? My brother's must match his as well." He turned to Russia. "You must be pretty detail-oriented."
"You notice the little things when you really like someone," Russia said, blushing.
The younger nation wrapped his arms around Russia's shoulders and pulled him in for a kiss. "I never knew that you had a side like this. If I had known before, I would have fallen for you a long time ago."
"You've fallen for me?" the older nation asked, blinking in surprise and relief.
The American blushed. "Well, yeah. I wouldn't have had sex with you last night if I didn't…."
Russia blushed. "Well yeah. Right. I guess that's true." He stood there in an awkward silence with America for a moment before looking up at him and saying, "So you're going to wear that tie today, right?"
America smiled at him. "Of course I will."
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"What has you so late?" Collins griped the moment America walked into the Oval Office. "I heard you were up late with a Ukrainian man. What's with you and foreign people?"
"Fucking my own people would be like masturbation or something," America commented, sitting down. He adjusted his tie a little and prepared himself mentally for yet another boring day of sitting and staring out the windows. He knew that he had to trust Russia to come up with a plan, but how long would it take?
Collins rolled his eyes. "Do you have to use such vulgar language, Alfred?" he asked with a sigh. His eyes then landed on America's tie. "I've never seen you wear that tie before. Where did you get it?"
"This tie?" America asked, gesturing to it as if he were Vanna White. "England gave it to me when I became independent. I've had it for over 200 years, but I've just never worn it until today."
"Why did you decide to wear it today?" Collins asked, raising an eyebrow.
America laughed to himself. "Well, wouldn't you just like to know?"
"Well, yes, I would. Since you've never worn it before."
The nation smirked at his leader. "Looks like you'll never know."
