Three years had passed since then. It had taken a few, shaky weeks to start off; but eventually Yao became accustomed to the new government that had been born within him. During this span of time, he often found it hard to keep his balance. He could walk or stand for extended periods of time before he would begin to wobble. He also experienced bouts of light-headedness, and sometimes nausea. But he eventually found himself returning to his normal state of being; and he went on to get a start with his new government.
Now of course, this brought on new stresses and responsibilities. It seemed as if all of the books were being thrown out or rewritten. He found himself busied with all of the new changes that had been made. And as if matters weren't bad enough, his brothers broke out in war. They had turned their childhood quarrels into something greater. Yao's nation dabbled with the fight, but he didn't bother with it personally. He wasn't going to grab his brothers by the scruff of the neck and toss them into time out like he had a thousand years ago. He had more important matters to deal with; such as his relationship with Ivan.
Through the years Ivan had picked up a nasty habit that drove his boss up the wall. Every time the nation would return to Russia, he would hop on the next train to China. There was no by-pass, no stopping at home to check in with the others of his household. Of course, for a time, nobody could figure out where he was going. Yao's lover didn't seem it, but he was crafty. Covering his tracks was a simple task. He disappeared to spend a few leisurely days with Yao; and took the returning train back to his homeland.
After a little more than a year of this behavior, Ivan slipped. He forgot to dispose of one of his ticket stubs; and somebody found the evidence of his trip to Yao's home. The news eventually spread to the other nations, and rumors began to circulate. Most of them feared some kind of communist attack on the rest of the world. Yao and Ivan were at last forced to come out about their 'hidden' relationship. It was embarrassing on both ends, but it was better than having to deal with someone's military staring you in your face. The matter was cleared, and the other nations went about their business. Alfred, however, always sent them evil looks.
At the same time; this alerted Ivan's boss to his location. At one point, he sent men to Yao's doorstep trying to find his Russian lover.
Wang Yao was madder than a hornet.
He through an absolute hissy fit, not unlike that of a frustrated mother. He threatened to ring their necks, or to pull them six miles by the lobes of their ears, if they didn't leave him alone. The mussed up, half-naked nation brought down the wrath of his tongue lashing; however ridiculous he may have looked. He told them no man would be taken out of his country, Russian or not, unless they wanted serious military action taken against them.
Of course; this only dettered them from going directly to Yao's home. Again and again, they tried to catch Ivan on his way there. There was simply too much work, they said, for the nation to be goofing off with his lover. Ivan, enjoying the game he played; slipped like sand through their fingers. He always regaled Yao with tales of his exploits, making the older nation smile. On this particular day however, nobody came to stop him. And Ivan was not in any sort of joyful mood.
Yao had already heard the news when Ivan came to him. Stalin had been in poor health for some time; and he knew it was inevitable for his death to come. It was normal for Ivan to feel remorse; even though his boss was often a pest to him. He hated the closeness and restraint that his leader wanted with him, but Yao was certain that he was grieving.
As always, Ivan didn't knock. Yao's home was his home; the Asian nation had once told him. He found Yao waiting for him there. The smaller of the two nations stood. Ivan caught him in a tight, silent embrace; that Yao returned. The two of them stood there for a few moments, unmoving.
"Ivan… Are you alright?" Yao muttered, his voice soft. He looked up at the Russian. The taller man nodded, his face sullen.
"Da, da. I'm fine. There is no need for you to worry about me Bolshevik." He told Yao. "I wasn't as close to this one as I could have been. It wasn't… It wasn't like losing little Anastasia again." He informed him. Yao knew all too well of the grief Ivan had felt when the little girl had disappeared into the dark bowels of history. He too had lost many children of high stature. Ivan let out a long sigh. "I'm just feeling a little sad is all."
Yao stood on the tips of his toes, reaching up. He placed a soft kiss on his lover's lips. "I know Vanya, I know." He told him. The Russian's face grew to a deep shade of red. He looked away in a state of embarrassment.
"Bolshevik. What did I tell you about calling me that? You know how much I hate it!" He said. Yao made a pouting face.
"What? Why?" He questioned. "You're allowed to have a pet name for me, and yet I can't have one for you? I mean, every time we see one another it's 'Bolshevik this, Bolshevik that.'. I should be able to Vanya in the bedroom, at the very least." Ivan rolled his eyes at Yao's argument.
"You know, I'm letting you near big sister anymore. She's the one that is always calling me that. If you never would have been around her, you would have never known!" He told the smaller man. Yao laughed a little.
"You need me to be there to protect you from Natalia though!" He said in a protest. Ivan grinned at the comment. Yao returned the expression; and pointed at Ivan's lips. "See that? I knew that I could make you smile." He exclaimed. The Russian kept the grin.
"I suppose that you did make me smile." He said; ruffling Yao's ebony locks. "Actually, it's very hard to be sad at all when I'm around my little Bolshevik." He told Yao.
"That's great. If I'm going to make you happy though, you need to protect me from Alfred in return." Yao said. Ivan's expression went from one that was playful, to one of concern. He cocked his head to the side.
"Why would you need me to protect you from Alfred?" He questioned. Yao flinched a little inside. He probably never should have said anything about it. What had he been thinking? Well, he thought. It would be best if he spoke his true feelings. He and Ivan were lovers, and he wasn't about to start keeping his feelings hidden away from him.
"Ah… It's not much of anything really. He just worries me a little when I'm around him. Ever since I took up the red flag, he's seemed… Well, bitter towards me to say the least." Yao explained. "I often catch him sending me shifty looks, and he seems to bump into me on purpose sometimes. He seems a little hostile whenever he's near me." He said. Ivan's previous smile had transformed into a dark grimace. He held Yao tight, protectively even.
"That capitalist pig won't ever touch my Bolshevik. " He snarled, like a dog warning off an intruder. "And if he does… I'll beat him until he can't even feel anymore." The larger nation swore. His wrathful face suddenly softened. He poked Yao's cheek with a gloved finger. "Also, I don't need any protection from my little sister!"
"Ivan. You drug me in the hallway closet with you and locked her out!" Yao protested. "You and I were in there for three hours before I finally convinced you to let me out for the restroom." He told the taller nation in a matter-of-fact tone of voice.
"It wasn't that long, and you know it! It was only two and a half hours." The Russian retorted. "Besides, I swear I saw her hiding a knife behind her back again. She could have killed you!" He exclaimed. Yao shook his head and rolled his eyes at him.
"Sure, sure. Whatever it is that you want to believe Ivan." He said. "I think you should just bite the bullet and admit that you're my little damsel in distress!"
"Nyet, you're the only damsel here Bolshevik." Ivan fought back. "I mean look at you. You've got all of that pretty hair, those tiny little hands and fingers, and most of all, that pretty skin." He said. Yao gave an angry noise.
"I can't believe that you ever dare to compare me to some kind of girl!" Yao snapped at him. "I swear, I'm every bit as much of a man as you are Ivan."
"Is that right? Last time I checked, you were the one that always plays the girl. Or am I forgetting something important?" The Russian teased. Yao looked him in frustration.
"I see." The Asian said. "You think that I couldn't bend you over and take you if I wanted to?" He asked. Ivan nodded.
"Da. That's exactly what I'm saying." Ivan told him. "You're just too delicate to be the man!" In the back of his mind, Ivan noticed that Yao had made a little side step, turning his own body. His back was against the wooden work desk. He looked down; and caught a devilish glint in his lover's deep onyx irises.
Before he could think to defend himself, Yao outstretched his arms and sent Ivan flying onto the surface behind him. He gasped, and tried not to slam the back of his head into the hard wood. While he was still struggling to land and regain his standing position, Yao grabbed his legs and spread them wide open. He pushed in between them; so Ivan couldn't close them. In what had taken no longer than thirty seconds, Yao had Ivan pinned down.
Ivan's heart was thundering against the confines of his ribcage once he picked his mind up a little. His violet irises were wide, and his jaw was hanging open a little. Yao bent over, and smiled like the Cheshire cat himself.
"Don't think, even for a second, that I don't know how to use another man." The Asian nation purred. He dipped his head down; kissing his lover's cheek. He proceeded to pull it back up; releasing his hair from it's tight ponytail. Long black tresses fell over his shoulders, like flowing black ink. He placed both hands on Ivan's chest, rubbing the area a little. "Besides, your boss just passed away. You're grieving! Which means you should lie back, relax… And leave all of that hard work for me."
Ivan looked up, and briefly considered his situation. He was on his back, on a wooden desktop that jabbed him even through his thick winter clothing. A man had thrown him on said table, one not even half of his weight and size. Said man also had his whole body between Ivan's legs, pressing their hips into each other. That, and Yao was determined. Once he was determined; Wang Yao was damn near unstoppable. He nodded in agreement.
Yao smiled, and kissed the other man tenderly. "Don't worry. I'll be gentle." He said. Using delicate fingers, he began to strip Ivan, button by tedious button of his clothing. He tossed everything away, leaving it to lie wherever gravity decided to pull it. Finally his torso was bare! Yao ogled at Ivan's cream-colored flesh, and frowned. He placed both hands over his gut. "You've lost weight…" He said. Could it be that the death of his boss was putting that much strain on him?
"I've just been a little more active lately. Honestly, there is nothing that you should be worrying about Bolshevik." Ivan assured Yao. He didn't seem to be lying. Thinking about it, Ivan didn't seem much of the type to let stress get the better of him anyway. His stress concerning America might be what was placing pressure on him.
Trying to relax him, Yao kissed his lips. He moved to his neck, suckling at the flesh with lips that brimmed with experience. Ivan let out a groan, using one of his huge paws to pet the back of Yao's head. The older nation nipped at Ivan's collarbone, stopping for a second to move a stray strand of hair that had fallen down into his eyes. He moved back to the sensitive flesh, teasing the nerves with his teeth. Yao used both hands to rub Ivan's hips sensually, smirking as the Russian arched his back into a delicate curve.
However, Yao was unhappy with one thing. All he could coax out of Ivan's lungs were soft sighs of pleasure. By this point, Yao himself would have already been moaning at a high volume. He wanted to unlock his lover's voice, and revel in the sound of his thick accent screaming in ecstasy. He wanted that vocal gold in all of its shining glory.
He made quick work of unzipping Ivan's pants. He urged his cock until it popped out, already hard. Hot blood pumped through it, making it throb beneath Yao's light touch. He stroked the shaft, and caused a dull friction to form between the flesh of his palm and Ivan's manhood. He pulled another groan from Ivan's throat. Unsatisfied, Yao began to flick his wrist in a way that made shivers run down Ivan's spine. But even still, Yao gained nothing more than a sigh.
The Asian decided to change his course of action. His lover made a noise of disapproval as he felt Yao's touch leave his cock. Yao's special bottle of oil was in his bedroom, so he decided that saliva would be good enough for a lubricant. His small fingers penetrating Ivan's body wouldn't be much of an issue, as the muscle wouldn't have to spread far apart.
He licked the delicate digits, coating them in clear fluid. He smirked, spreading Ivan's legs apart. He brought his hand down, circling around Ivan's puckered entrance with his index finger. He pressed it through a tight ring of muscle. Tighter than he'd thought actually. But then, it had been several years since Ivan had taken from another man.
He felt around, rubbing Ivan's insides curiously. They were as soft as velvet, and hot as well. He couldn't wait to get inside of that delicious flesh. He added another finger, thrusting them in and out, as well as scissoring Ivan's muscles wide apart. He looked up to make sure his lover was feeling alright. He cocked his eyebrow mischeviously. He stopped with his other motions, and set about to rubbing Ivan's soft walls. He searched for his sweet spot, and reached up to kiss him.
He licked his lover's lips, keeping him from biting them. He poked through the barrier, gaining entrance into his lover's mouth. He savored the taste of his own tongue and saliva. Before he could manage to bite hips lip again, Yao found Ivan's prostate. The Russian immediately broke the kiss. He tossed his head back onto the hard wood, hitting his head with a loud thunk. He cried out both in pleasure and from the sudden pain of hitting himself. Yao felt victorious.
Ivan's breath was heavy, and his eyes opened up wide. He gave a sort of confused look, peering up at Yao. The Asian hit that special spot again. Ivan jumped. "What's wrong Ivan? Has it been awhile since you've been touched right here?" He teased, rubbing circles into the bundle of nerves. Ivan cried out again, unable to find an answer through the waves of pleasure that Yao's fingers created. The older nation gave him a coy look.
"You've never been the woman before, have you?" He questioned, giving his prostate a little flick. Ivan groaned, but laughed a little.
"I thought that would be obvious, my little Bolshevik. I'm not so pretty and girlish as you are you know. No man could ever make a woman out of me." He said through ragged breath. Yao growled, and rammed his hips into Ivan's; practically making him fly off of the desk. Before Ivan could recompose himself, Yao rubbed rough circles into his prostate. He cried out loudly, arching his back.
"Yebat!" He yowled. Yao wasn't quite sure what that meant in his lover's native tongue, but it didn't sound nice.
"Oh, you sound awfully like a little virgin girl Ivan! And guess who's making you cry out like this? Me. Another man." Yao gloated. He pulled his fingers out, kissing Ivan. His lover was glaring daggers at him, no doubt wishing death on him in his mind. He released his own cock, stroking it with his wet fingers.
Without any warning, he pushed in. Ivan gave a surprised little gasp. Yao wasn't a large man, but Ivan was a virgin in this respect. He had to allow time for his muscles to spread out and adjust to the sudden intrusion. The Russian moaned as his body made room for Yao's.
"Congratulations Ivan." Yao teased. "It seems I've made a woman out of you." He purred. Ivan growled, and pulled him down by his hair. He crashed their lips together into a tooth-cracking kiss, moaning into it as Yao began to pump in and out. Ivan's tongue rolled over his, and Yao rammed into his tight heat. He pulled his lover's legs over his shoulders, allowing him to move faster.
Ivan gave low moans and groans, gripping the desk's edges. Yao pushed him back into the desk over and over, and anything that had been sitting there previously had long since been knocked away. Yao tossed his head back and simply mewled, grabbing Ivan's thighs.
"Augh, harder!" Ivan demanded. Yao was all to happy to oblige. He had to hold Ivan in place as he pounded into him. Otherwise, he would be sent toppling off of the hard wood. Ivan cried out with every last thrust, and Yao took pleasure in the fact that he hadn't even brushed his prostate yet. He angled himself, unable to resist the temptation of seeing Ivan's face. Within a moment, he hit it head on. Ivan gave a strangled gasp, pulling his lover's hair. After one more thrust, he cried out in ecstasy; spilling hot come onto their stomachs. Yao followed suit, releasing his seed deep inside of Ivan's body.
Panting like an exhausted dog, he pulled out. Ivan propped himself up on his elbows, giving a look of disgust. Yao's essence was dripping out of him, droplets dotting the floor below. Yao let his legs down, and rubbed his cheek. "See? This is why I'm always telling you not to release inside of me. It feels awful, doesn't it?"
Ivan laughed at him. "Oh, that's why? I always thought that you were scared of getting pregnant!" He retorted. Yao's face turned red, and he gave the Russian's ear a sharp yank. Ivan yelped. "Ouch, Bolshevik! I'm only kidding!"
"Oh really? Because I'm not laughing." Yao told him, his face stern. "I hope you can't walk now." He said in a bitter tone.
"I know you won't be able to next time I get my hands on you."
"You asked for it! I wasn't the one screaming to go harder, harder!" Yao imitated his lover yelling for him. Ivan smiled.
"Can you blame me? I could hardly even feel anything!" He snapped back at him. Yao's face lit up.
"That's enough!" He barked. In an angry haze, he used both hands to flip the desk. Ivan gasped, and flailed; trying to catch himself before he was sent toppling to the floor. He was only able to grab Yao's arm in time, pulling his lover down with him. But were left in a heap on the floor; Yao lying atop of the Russian's trunk. He lifted himself onto his elbows and looked down at him.
"Are you ready to call a truce?" He asked. Ivan thought for a short moment, and nodded.
"Da, that sounds nice. A truce it is." He said. Yao smiled in relief. However, Ivan took him by surprise by picking him up and tossing him over his shoulders. "But I will be needing some reparations first, of course!" The Russian exclaimed. Yao shouted and flailed as he was carted off into his bedroom, trying to escape. He was laughing as well however, a happy feeling in his stomach. Everything seemed like it was supposed to be this way. Times were good, he thought.
…
Later, after Ivan's collection of reparations, the two nations lie in bed together. They were tangled in a mess of limbs, sheets, and flowing black hair. Ivan smiled and pulled his lover close to his chest, snuggling him affectionately. Yao laughed a little, kissing him. Ivan looked down at him.
"So… Tell me now Bolshevik. What exactly has America been doing that makes you feel uncomfortable." He said. Yao frowned. He knew that he should have never brought it up earlier.
"It isn't much of anything really. I shouldn't have even mentioned it to you." He said. "It's just, every time I see him, he stares at me in this weird kind of way. He sits there and watches me, almost like he's ready to eat me alive." He explained. Ivan scoffed.
"If I know him, than I'm sure he does want to eat you!" Ivan told him. "He hates me, and he's taking out those feelings onto you too, because you're so close to me."
"No, I don't think it's like that. I think he just hates communism altogether" Yao told him. "But then again, he could be jealous." He said suddenly. Ivan sent him a questioning stare.
"Jealous?" He asked. "What do you mean by jealous?"
"Well, think of it this way." Yao told him. "For the better part of my life, other nations have wanted me. I've been invaded, stolen, fought over, and everything else that you can imagine. Now, you have me Ivan. I'm fully willing to be here with you. I think that maybe, Alfred is jealous because you have me and he doesn't." He tried to explain to his lover.
Yao gasped as Ivan brought him into a tight embrace. "That won't happen. America can't touch you." He growled. "If that capitalist pig ever so much as lays a finger on you, tell me. I'll rip his fat throat out and feed it to the cat."
Yao laughed, gently taking Ivan's arm with his hand. "Calm down now Ivan. He never does anything more than send me an odd look or two. He's never confronted me about anything. " He told Ivan. The Russian kept his stern expression.
"Whatever you say Bolshevik. But, promise me this… If he ever does touch you, tell me. I'll do the closest thing I can to killing him." He threatened. Even he knew that a nation as vast and powerful as America couldn't be killed by physical means. At least, not very quickly. It would take years of torture to accomplish that. But maiming a nation? That was easy enough.
"I promise." Yao said. "But Ivan, I can take of myself. At least for the time being. " He assured the larger nation, kissing the bottom of his chin.
"He's bigger than you though Bolshevik." Ivan told him. "He's much stronger than you too." Yao shrugged at his remark.
"I will admit, no amount of border expansion could ever change my human size. But, I can make myself stronger. Twice as strong as America, if I put my mind to it."
Ivan laughed. "I suppose that there isn't anything stopping you then!" He said. "Once my little Bolshevik has his mind set on doing something, then there isn't anything that can stop him."
"Shi, that's right." Yao replied. "I can make myself as strong as an ox."
"I wouldn't do that if I were you Bolshevik." Ivan interrupted him. Yao gave him a confused look.
"Why not? You made it sound like a good thing just a few seconds ago." He said. Ivan smiled at him warmly, stroking his waves of ebony hair.
"Nyet, I have nothing wrong with you making yourself stronger. I would love for you to do that. But, if you are an ox, it is likely that America will cook you and stick you between some bread!" The Russian joked. Yao smiled at his remark, and propped himself up onto his elbows.
"Alright, I need a shower. " He said. "Because SOMEBODY, came inside three times. Just to make me mad, too." He told Ivan sarcastically. The Russian grinned like a fox.
"I was just getting revenge for earlier! My head is still all sore and swollen, you know. My big sister is going to hate you forever when she finds out that you gave me this big knot on the back of my skull." He protested. Yao frowned.
"Ivan, you got revenge three times over!" He exclaimed. Ivan rolled his eyes and stood up. Yao sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the mattress. "Where are you going?" He asked. Ivan looked back.
"To the shower!" He retorted. "What do you think I got revenge on your for in the first place?" He asked, stepping out of the room. Yao smiled, and followed right behind.
Okay. I know. You all hate me for being so late. BUT, I'm trying as hard as I can to keep this story updated! I have two more chapters in the making. I think it will be easier totype once I get to some of the more thrilling stuff in future chapters. The next will be only a few years forward, and then one after to 1970 ;) I know the time skips are odd, but in nation-time, they're irrelevant. Twenty years to yao and Ivan isn't much! Please read and review! It keeps me going~
