Sumina
-epilogue, part one-
Towards Happiness
A/N: Hahaha…you didn't think I'd end it like that, did you?! I'm sure you didn't, since the story didn't say 'complete'. But still. I couldn't end the story with everyone being all sad, since that wasn't the entire point of the story. Really, this epilogue and the three following it are all for you guys—the readers! So enjoy to your hearts' contents, because I didn't intend for this to go up in rating!
Rating: M, for…sex, to be blunt. Yaoi sex (though I guess that's pretty obvious, huh?).
Pairing: IvanxYao/RussiaxChina…the main pairing of the story. Finally, it shows up!
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~One Month Later~
Ivan sits at his small dining room table in his small home, an emptied shot glass dangling from his hands. Half of the bottle of vodka he bought that morning was emptied within an hour, and by this time in the afternoon, only a single drop was left. Still, he did not feel his head swimming, or the delightful tingling in his muscles. Still, he could not remember his mother's face. Still, Natalia haunted him. He suddenly wished he had bought another bottle. Spread before him on the table were all the letters Yao had ever written to him—five in total. Not one of them had he ever had the strength to answer. It was far too painful.
"Ivan,
How are you? You haven't written me back. It's been a month. Are you mad with me? I understand if you are, but please, I just want to hear back from you…I miss hearing from you."
"What a joke," Ivan snorted, shaking his head. "Such a liar, Wang Yao." He swept the letters to the ground. Sumina's ring glinted in the light hanging from the ceiling. From the front of the house, the doorbell rings. Ivan stands quickly, rushing over to it. Once he's there, he unlocks the numerous locks on the door, ripping it open. "Yes? Hello?" His voice is irritable, with a small tinge of fear. No one ever visits him at his home.
The sight that meets his eyes catches the breath in his throat.
"Ivan!" Yao smiles a wide, bright smile.
"Y-Yao…?"
Yao grips Ivan's arm. "Yes. So you still remember me after all?" Ivan slowly reaches out to grab Yao's arm. The touch is gentle at first, but tightens gradually, until Yao calls out, "Aiyah! L-Let me go, aru!" Ivan tugs Yao through the door, slams it shut, and pushes him against the nearest wall with a loud thud.
"Did you think I'd forget?" Ivan hisses, close to Yao's face, eyes narrowed. His voice is low, on the verge of sadness, hanging over the edge of anger. "How could I ever forget, Yao? It's the only thing I've thought about since then."
"I-Ivan," Yao trembles slightly, staring up at the taller Russian fearfully. "P-Please, you're hurting me, aru!"
"You hurt me, Yao!" He releases the pinned man and turns, looking elsewhere, stepping away a small distance. "What makes you think you're welcome in my home after that?!"
Yao hugs himself, trembling still. "I'm s-sorry…Ivan…"
"Go away. Get out!" Ivan sits at the foot of the narrow stairway leading to the second floor.
"Ivan—"
"GET OUT!" Ivan is shaking like a leaf, gripping the sides of his head, forcing his tears back. His efforts are fruitless. A long, heavy silence – aside from Ivan's occasional sounds of sorrow – falls over the home. Ivan believes he is alone, before arms wrap about his body, enveloping him in comforting warmth, a loving embrace…something he hasn't felt in many, many years.
"Ivan, I won't leave you," Yao says with a stubborn, steady voice, rubbing his back soothingly. "I didn't come here to be turned away, aru. I came here to stay."
Ivan's head snapped up. "Wh-What?" His tear-stained face becomes visible, and for a moment, he regrets it. But Yao raises his silk sleeve and wipes away the wetness with a tender motion. Ivan leans into the hand wherever it travels.
"I'm here to stay, Ivan. I…" Yao pauses, lips pressed together. "…It took me a while, but I realized something was off. A part of me felt missing, aru. Whenever I thought of you, my heart ached." Yao's arms slide away from Ivan's body. He feels horribly cold and self-conscious without them there, but he listens closely nonetheless. "And I thought, 'What's missing, then? What haven't I had in my life for a while?' Well…you were the answer, aru. I don't like the feeling, of something being missing. I want to stay here, in your sight, with you…even if you won't accept anything further than friendship."
"Yao," Ivan's head is turned to the side. "You mean this? It's not a trick?" There is a tone of disbelief in his voice. His trust is missing.
"I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it, aru," Yao responds steadily, nodding his head. Slowly, Ivan stands, approaches Yao, and looks at him directly in the eye.
"If that is the case," Ivan wraps his arms around Yao's slim body, "then I accept you," he lifts Yao – who struggles in surprise – so that their faces are even, close enough that their noses brush together, "and every part of you, and everything you have to offer." And he kisses Yao, the electric sensation running through his body, traveling from every inch of his own to every inch of Yao's, holding him close, never letting him go.
~Three Months Later~
Yao rearranges the sunflowers in the small pot, pushed to the furthest corner near the window in Ivan's tiny room. He smiles at them. "Like small little suns, aru," he touches the petals affectionately. Their edges tickle the tips of his fingers delicately, causing quiet laughter to bubble in his throat. When he has finished admiring the warm yellow of the tall-stalked flowers, Yao pulls a red ribbon from his pocket, to tie his loose hair back in a neat, manageable pony tail.
He is stopped suddenly by a strong arm wrapping around his abdomen and pulling him against the broad chest with a quiet 'Oof!' His silken hair is brushed over one shoulder to reveal the soft skin of his neck, attacked by a warm mouth that kisses, bites and licks skillfully, teasingly. A deep desire is held back within the small actions. It is more so their hidden message that raises the moan from Yao's lips. The red tie is dropped to the ground, forgotten.
"Yao, come back to bed," Ivan begins to pull him back towards the bed that dominates most of the small room.
"It's m-morning, aru," Yao shivers and struggles slightly "Why should I go back to bed?"
"Because," Ivan continues to tease his neck. "The bed is warm and it's far easier to ravish you there."
"Nn! Ivan, st-stop!" He is pushed back upon the soft mattress.
Ivan poises himself just above Yao, growling, "Why'd you have to put clothes on?" He fumbles with the buttons on the shirt, hissing angrily once in a while. With finality, he speaks again, "Screw it." Ivan grabs the edges of the shirt and rips it open, buttons flicked off. Some hit the floor--their pitter-patter curled his lips into a smirk.
"Ivan! Y-You just ruined my shirt, aru! St-sto-aah…" Yao trails off, moaning as a tongue makes contact with the skin of his collar bone, trailing kisses and nips down, dipping his tongue into Yao's navel, stopping once it reaches the cloth barrier. Ivan frowns at Yao's pants and quickly tugs them off. When no undergarments meet his gaze, he raises an eyebrow and looks up at Yao, his smirk having returned. Yao flushes. "I-I was tired, aru…"
"That doesn't matter," Ivan grins as he lifts a leg up over a shoulder, kissing the inner thigh. His hair tickles the sensitive skin there. Yao squirms, breath coming out in short gasps, anticipating the places those kisses will travel, the sensations they'll raise. "I think it's very…sexy." Ivan smiles as he bites at the skin that meets his mouth.
Slowly, Ivan's actions begin to get to Yao. He feels the heat raise in his body, and the way Ivan smiles close to his crotch, teasing him further, to the point he writhes and begs. Ivan's lips travel along his body, all around, over every last bit it can reach, until there is nothing left but to trail back down and up again, the cycle Ivan takes to get Yao flustered and blushing. A tightness forms between Ivan's legs, pushing insistently upward against the cloth trap of his boxers. He growls under his breath and struggles, rolling from the bed, until he is standing. Yao watches through half-lidded eyes as Ivan tugs his boxers off, over his erection, and moves above him once more in what seems one quick, rough movement. The bed springs creak beneath Ivan's added weight.
Without warning, as usual, Ivan's fingers slip inside Yao. "Ah!"
Ivan is grinning as his fingers move about, stretching, stroking, probing. Beneath him, Yao is twitching with pleasure. "Is this enjoyable for you?"
"What a-ah…horrible question," Yao pants, "you're a t-terrible…nn…man."
Ivan pauses all together, looking up at the man beneath him on the bed. "Answer, or I'll leave you like this."
Yao turns his head away, cheeks coloring a dark shade of red. "Y-Yes…" When the movement continues, Yao opens his mouth wide and allows soft sounds of pleasure to float forth again. It is only when Ivan begins to stroke his erection that Yao's cries increase in volume. He begins to feel mounting desire that is equivalent to the one causing it. "Ivan!"
The Russian nuzzles his head against Yao's sweat-slicked belly. "I guess I should stop teasing you." He withdraws his fingers and positions himself between Yao's legs, sliding in with a loud grunt of heady pleasure. Warmth and restriction push him to the extremes of self-control. Ivan finds it tricky to balance between not following the urge to thrust into Yao with abandon, recklessly and thoughtless, and trying not to listen to the noise his partner is making. Yao calls out loudly, having forgotten his usual vocal control, asking desperately for Ivan to move, to make him feel good.
Ivan complies with a loud call of his own feelings of pleasure as he thrusts once, slowly, getting himself deeper within the delicious body beneath him. When he feels there is little to no waiting left, no more space to fill, he moves back…and rocks forward. Back…and forward. Back…and forward. A slow, easy pace meant to tease his lover, who predictably begins to prattle on breathlessly about how terrible Ivan is, and to "Move faster, aah, th-this is torture!" He only speeds up when he feels his own desire starting to fall out of check, slipping from his fingers. It is then that Yao becomes louder, clutching to the previously-crumpled sheets desperately, tongue disabled and far too clumsy for intelligent use.
Perhaps a better angle, he thinks, will make Yao louder. While thought is hazy, he can still manage it well enough to think like this. Or, it is simply because the thought has to do with such actions taking place within his bedroom. Ivan grabs Yao's hips and tilts them up slightly, moving his own body to meet their new height, angling downward. His suspicions prove correct at the particularly loud scream he receives.
He had done something good, it seemed. "Th-There! Nnnah," Yao's voice strains against the spasm-like mewls he emits without thought, without restraint, slipping past his lips as if it were normal for him to do such things.
"Ah, so I've found it," Ivan hits the same spot once more. "What a wonderful little thing it is." And wasn't it? It brought about the pleasure that Yao felt, which in turn brought to Ivan his own pleasure, joined them together at the height of it all, in their carnal desires being filled, making them human, making them content and satiated until the next time they desired it once again.
"J-Just move, aru! Ahn…"
A chuckle rises in his throat, melted together with a husky sound of pure bliss. The Russian's hips begin to work twice as quickly, twice as roughly, forcing Yao against the bed, springs groaning their protest against their mistreatment, drowned out by the lovely sounds his partner makes. He more so senses the tightening of the body beneath him, knows it to happen before it does, than he does feel it. It happens, his preparedness for what's to come, prior to the amazing sensation of the hot clenching of muscles around his erection. A low, guttural sound escapes his throat at the same time Yao utters a high-pitched noise. Soon after, warmth splashes forth in the form of thick white fluid on his chest, hands, Yao's thighs and a portion of his lower belly, and he knows he will not last long as he presses closer to the moving body beneath him, thrusts several more times before he finally cries out in a desultory fashion, head tilted up and hips still moving despite having filled the hotness with his own white heat. When his gasping breath returns to him, he removes himself thoughtfully (Yao gives a few words of thanks), falls upon the equally-tired lover beneath him not-so-thoughtfully.
"You're heavy," Yao complains feebly, attempting to shove the heavier man off, his heart not quite in it.
"Too bad," Ivan answers, "I'm tired."
"So am I, aru!"
Ivan grins at him, yawns and rolls off. "Fine, fine, I'll move…"
Yao sits up (his respiration is still amiss, Ivan notes), looks over at him. "Are you going back to bed?"
"I'm tired again. Yes."
Yao slips from the bed, pulling on a few articles of clothing before grabbing the covers and dragging them over his lover's bare body. "I'll be downstairs, then." He places a platonic kiss to Ivan's forehead before disappearing through the doorframe. Ivan's eyes slide shut while he smiles.
_____
He wakes up later in the day, around noontime. Putting on some clothing, he travels downstairs to find that Yao has begun making a light meal for both of them. He traps Yao between the kitchen counter and himself, inhaling the smell of exotic scents Yao bathes in mixed with sweat and sex, arms wrapped about him. Yao does not struggle against the embrace—instead, he begins to move, setting up the plates on the dining room table, Ivan too stubborn to break the grip.
They enjoy their meal in companionable silence, sitting side-by-side.
They wash the dishes, standing next to one another.
They relax on the small sofa for most of the evening.
They make dinner together, never too far away.
And when the daylight has been wasted away, they head upstairs to their bedroom.
"Yao," Ivan breathes quietly, running his hands through silken hair, "you are beautiful…"
"Mm," Yao is turned away from Ivan, eyes shut, with his back drawn close to the broad chest.
"I love you." Ivan's fingers convulse around the ends of Yao's hair—clutch, release, tangle, clutch, release, tangle—as he waits for a response. Yao's eyes have snapped open. When some time passes without one, Ivan rambles on. "I think I always have. You were still pretty, even in that mirror. It's strange to say that I've always loved you since the beginning, isn't it? But I think it's true. I love you, Yao. I love you."
"Ivan," Yao sighs, rolling over so that he is facing Ivan, "If it's how you feel, then it's all that matters, right? It takes time to fall in love…but sometimes people just know who they'll fall in love with from the very beginning." He takes a long pause, in which he presses their foreheads together, noses touching. "I love you, too, Ivan." They kiss. As they fall into the bed sheets for sweet sleep, Ivan slips Sumina's ring from his finger, places it in the nightstand's drawer.
It is on the long journey, towards happiness, that they have learned to love.
SUMINA
-Epilogue, Part One-
END