Shadow: Sorry for the long wait, guys! But hey, I got this one out faster, right? And guess what, LiS is almost completely finished being written! I now have 47 chapters finished, and just three more to go until I can start updating weekly again! So don't worry you guys, end is in sight ;w;

WARNING: Makeup sex, heart in a box, other stuffs

As Alfred stared at the ornate box, hearing the dreaded thumping inside, he thought about what Ivan had said. About everything he had said. When he'd given Alfred his heart, how he'd reacted when Alfred had wanted to break up with him, what he'd said when they'd slept together at the meeting in Rome.

Taking a deep breath, Alfred opened up the box, stomach twisting as he saw the beating heart inside. It wasn't because he was squeamish, it was just because it was Ivan's. Though the fact that it was still beating did freak him out just a little.

Alfred glanced warily at his phone that was sitting on his bedside table. He closed the box and hesitantly picked his phone up, going over the pros and cons of calling the Russian. He had no idea what would be said, or if the Russian would even pick up for him.

He took a deep breath and pressed speed dial 1.

Alfred held his breath as the phone rang, and right before the message machine picked it up, Ivan answered. "What do you want?"

Wincing at the bitter tone in the Russian's voice, Alfred stayed silent. He opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. After a few minutes of silence, Ivan broke the uncomfortably thin ice, "Alfred, it is four AM in New York. Go to bed." And with that said, he hung up, leaving Alfred to stare at his phone, wishing he had said something beforehand.

"I'm sorry," Alfred whispered, pressing the 'end call' button and setting his phone aside as he hugged the box with Ivan's heart in it close to his own.

Tears leaked from his eyes as he held the box closed to his heart, sobbing quietly. He had never meant it to be like this. This was like after his Civil War all over again, when Russia had spurned his advances and denied him a relationship. Ivan had told him he liked him, and that a relationship would be nice, but he was too young.

He rested his forehead on the box, listening to the rhythmic beating of the heart inside. He was such an idiot. Because he was afraid of some weird feeling he had he'd totally ruined his relationship over a problem that could have been solved by talking for five minutes.

And what was the worst part was clutching at Ivan's heart like a brokenhearted schoolgirl who'd just been dumped. He didn't know why he hadn't tried to give it back, it was Ivan's fucking heart of all things, it wasn't like a nightshirt he liked to wear because it reminded him of the Russian or something. He wiped his eyes as he opened up the box again, biting his bottom lip as his stomach lurched again.

He wondered briefly that if he touched it, would Ivan feel it, but then decided against it and closed the box as the idea came back around to him and he realized it was far too much squick for him to handle.

The words Ivan had said to him when he'd given him his heart echoed in his mind. He hadn't known what they meant then, but he knew now. Ivan had been asking him, graciously enough, not to break his heart. Then when Alfred had done exactly what Ivan had asked him nicely enough not to do, Ivan had kissed him and told him to keep his heart, and to put it back together for him.

Alfred didn't know how the Russian could be so patient with him. Why was he being so patient with him? He didn't know. And he wasn't sure if he wanted to, for fear of doing something else that was stupid and uncalled for.

Despite the tight pain in his chest, Alfred set the box aside and stood up, kicking on his shoes. He needed to see Ivan, and if it meant showing up in the middle of the night and all he got was a rejection then he could handle it. All he needed was some closure, and while he knew it would hurt if Ivan did reject him, he knew he could live with it, knowing he had at least done something.

eｿ

Alfred was a nervous wreck. He'd finally managed to get on a plane to Russia at six in the morning, he hadn't slept the entire ten hour ride, then he had to take an hour taxi ride to Ivan's house out in the middle of nowhere. He was standing in front of the Russian's house in the snow, hoping he had done the right thing.

It was some time around midnight, maybe a little before, but Alfred was determined to get this over with. He didn't care if it was late at night, he needed to pour his heart out and possibly fix his relationship. Even if he didn't fix his relationship, he would feel good about the fact that he was giving Ivan's heart back and that his own might not hurt anymore.

Banging on the door, Alfred tried to hold back so he didn't make a dent or a hole in the wood. When there was no answer for a few minutes he banged on the door again, desperately hoping Ivan wasn't off on some trip to his sister's or something. But even then, Lithuania would probably be home, right?

He was about to bang on the door again when it finally opened, revealing a very irate Russian. He was saying something in Russian, then stopped when he saw Alfred, and froze. Alfred wasted no time and launched himself into Ivan's body, wrapping his arms around his middle and burying his face in his chest.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, tears trickling down his cheeks slowly as he shook against the Russian. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

Ivan stood there, eyes wide as the American sobbed into his nightshirt. Hesitantly, he petted Alfred's hair and shushed him quietly. "Out of the cold," he bid in hushed English, prying Alfred from his chest and pushing him inside to brush off the snow and dry off. He took the American's bag and bomber jacket and took it away for it to hang and dry. When he returned Alfred was just standing there, looking pitiful and wet from the snow that had melted from his naturally high body heat.

Sighing, the Russian went to fetch a towel and pulled it firmly over Alfred's head. "Dry," he ordered, and began unbuttoning the blonde's shirt. "You'll get sick if you keep wearing these wet clothes." The American didn't bother fighting him and let him tug off his clothes to be dried.

Ivan sat the American in front of the fireplace with a blanket in his library where he had been before Alfred had practically kicked down his door. He poured some leftover, lukewarm tea into a mug and handed it to the blonde. The tea was only set aside as Alfred pulled the blanket closer to his naked, cold form. Ivan sat beside him and crossed his legs, looking into the fireplace. "Why did you come?"

Ivan once more found himself with an armful of quietly sobbing American. He tensed, but soon relaxed and picked up on the comforting factor. He hushed the blonde, humming a quiet tune for him as he stroked his hair. Alfred slowly migrated into his lap, pressing close as he shook and cried into his shoulder.

Alfred wasn't quite as fun when he was crying for real. It made Ivan's heart ache- wherever his heart was at that moment. "Why are you here, Alfred?" the Russian finally asked, holding Alfred close and rubbing his back as he clutched at his shirt. Alfred had made it clear he didn't want a relationship, so why had he taken the time to come to Russia?

"I'm sorry...I don't know what I want," the American mumbled, wiping his eyes before promptly burying his face in Ivan's chest.

"I'm sorry as well, because I don't know what you want either."

"No...I...I mean, I do, but..." 'I want you.' He couldn't get the words out. "I-I really fucked shit up and...I don't know what to do. So I came here."

"You are welcome to sleep in Lithuania's room I suppose, he's at home right now. I'm not about to send you back outside. There was supposed to be a blizzard tonight." Ivan sighed and continued his petting, running his hand through Alfred's hair slowly, not really noticing the effect it was having on the American.

Shivering, Alfred stifled his moan with the Russian's shoulder. "I...don't want to sleep alone," he replied truthfully, squirming a bit in Ivan's lap as that terrible hand continued to accidentally smooth over Nantucket. He clutched at Ivan's shirt tightly, trying not to make it too apparent that the Russian's heavy petting was affecting him so strongly.

After a few more pets Ivan noticed he was rubbing over Nantucket as well, and that his actions were making the American squirm and grind delightfully against him. Despite noticing, he didn't stop, deriving some sort of pleasure from stimulating the blonde.

"Mmm...ahh," Alfred moaned, shivering as he tried desperately not to drool. "Y-you...jerk," he breathed out between moans, letting out a soft keen. "You're d-doing it on purpose n-now..." He yelped as he was roughly shoved on his back and the blanket was pushed aside.

"I can't help it," Ivan murmured, playing with Nantucket more directly now to make the American arch his back and mewl. After a few moments of teasing he pulled back, realizing what he was doing and that Alfred might not like it.

"D-don't you dare stop," Alfred bit out between gritted teeth, grabbing the Russian's wrist and pulling his hand down to his crotch. "You started this, so finish it."

Nodding, Ivan wrapped a hand around Florida and slowly began pumping him. He watched with half lidded eyes as the American bucked into his touch, moaning and squirming beneath him. He had missed this far too much. He leaned down and began to suck on Alfred's neck, leaving hickeys in his wake as he traveled downward towards his target.

"Mmmnoo," Alfred mumbled as Ivan peppered kisses around the base of his erection. "Don't want a goddamn blowjob. Want you to fuck me," he demanded through his moans, fingers sliding through the Russian's ashen blonde hair. "I don't want you to be all unselfish."

"But-"

"No," the American interrupted firmly. "I don't care! That's what I didn't like! I don't want you to be all understanding and caring and shit, I want you to fuck my brains out and act like cold bastard because that's what I find so goddamn attractive about you!"

"You are very strange, my self help books tell me I should do all the things you tell me not to." Ivan seemed almost puzzled, but did as he was told and sat up, producing three fingers to the American. "Get them wet, I don't have lube."

"Just go in dry." Alfred spread his legs eagerly for the Russian, hoping he wouldn't try to push preparation on him.

"I hurt you last time."

"Then don't this time."

Ivan sighed and shook his head. He took one of Alfred's legs and pulled it over his shoulder, pushing his sweatpants down. He was already hard from the pleasant grinding he'd undergone before. "Hips up just a little more."

Doing as he was told, Alfred rolled his hips up, waiting expectantly for the Russian to fuck him. He whined quietly as he felt pressure on his unstretched hole and Ivan slowly pressed forward, stretching him painfully far after so long without any penetration. He bit his bottom lip as tears edged at the corners of his eyes. After so long without sex it burned and hurt. It felt like he was melting.

'No, like I'm dying,' he thought through the haze of pain as he grit his teeth and tried to bear through it. He let out a quiet moan as Ivan curled his ahoge around a finger, distracting him from some of the pain.

"If I am hurting you say so," Ivan told him, pressing in further. He saw the American's look of extreme discomfort and stopped. "Are you alright?"

"Nn, no," Alfred snapped, fisting the blanket beneath him as he tried not to curse out his displeasure. "Just make it feel better already..." He gasped when Ivan grabbed a hold of Florida again, stroking him to ease some of his pain.

"You should not have been so hasty," Ivan sighed, stroking the American firmly to help him take his mind of the pain as he sunk in further, now nearly all the way in. He frowned when Alfred whimpered. He pushed Alfred's leg down from his shoulder to his waist for a better angle. "Shh, I am almost there."

Alfred reached up and grabbed the Russian by the front of his nightshirt (that had quite a few telltale tear stains much to Alfred's embarrassment) and yanked him into a kiss. "Sh-shut up...don't wanna hear it...fuck the shit out of me," Alfred demanded against his lips, looping his arms around the Russian's neck and holding him down tightly. He buried his face in Ivan's scarf and hissed in pain as the Russian began pulling out, then pushed back in gently. "Fuck... More," he begged, feeling the head of Ivan's member brush against his sweet spot. It made it feel better, but it wasn't enough to have him writhing in pleasure.

The Russian sighed and pushed Alfred down, pulling him closer by his hips and putting more power behind his movements. He locked on to the American's sweet spot and continued to hit it, slow with his movements lest he hurt him again. He fisted Florida for extra measure, finding it too late at night for any long lasting sexual encounter. He wanted to get this over with so that he could go to bed (if his conscience allowed him, that is).

Squirming beneath his lover, Alfred bucked just barely, panting and flushed now as the pain and discomfort all but disappeared when Ivan began hitting his sweet spot more consistently. "Harder," he murmured, arching his back as the Russian complied with his demands.

With a sharp cry, Alfred reached his climax and went limp, shuddering as Ivan continued to fuck him, though softer and more shallow with his thrusts. Alfred moaned as he finally felt the Russian's cum fill him. They stayed in that position for a few minutes, staying still and basking in the afterglow.

Finally, Russia pulled out and sat beside the blonde, pulling up his pants and waiting. "Are you satisfied?"

"No," Alfred answered truthfully between pants. He sat up and crawled into the Russian's lap. "Again."

"Nyet." Ivan shoved Alfred down onto his back. "You should go to bed."

"I don't want to go to bed," Alfred snapped, sitting up again. "I want you."

"I thought you didn't know what you wanted."

"I do now," he whispered, yanking the Russian down on top of him. "Please, I'm sorry I fucked up, it's all my fault, all this shit... Just please..." He was starting to cry again. "Just please don't..." 'Please don't leave.'

Ivan was silent for a long time. For too long. "You should have told me." The words made Alfred's gut twist. "I am going to bed."

As Ivan stood Alfred tackled him. "Stop, Ivan, please," he begged, yelping as Ivan tossed him off. "God dammit, I'm sorry alright, it's all my fault, so just..." He didn't know how to get the words out. "I don't want this to end."

Ivan rolled over and sighed. "You need your make up your damn mind." Despite his words he grabbed the American and yanked him into a kiss. "And you will not be going back home for a long time, because I plan to keep you here for weeks to make up for the time you've deprived me of you."

"W-wait..." Alfred pulled back and got up, running out to where Ivan had put his bag. He grabbed it and returned to the Russian. He began digging through his bag and pulled out the box. He shoved it in Ivan's arms, trying not to think too hard about what was inside it. "Here."

Ivan blinked and looked down at the box in his hands. He unlatched it and lifted the lid. He blinked again, then shut it, and gave it back. "Why did you bring it with you?" He was surprised when Alfred just shoved it back into his arms.

"Just put it back in already, I haven't slept in three days because I keep thinking of you and...and...just take it back!"

Ivan blinked again. "Nyet." Before Alfred could object he silenced him with a wave of his hand. "Nyet. Having a heart has caused me nothing but pain in the past. So keep it." Plus wasn't it like a slap in the face if Alfred were to give it back?

Alfred frowned but took the box back. "I'm going to lock this in my freezer when I get home. Because I can't sleep, knowing it's under my bed."

Laughing, Ivan yanked Alfred down into his lap, startling the American. "I will tell you what you will do," he chuckled, nuzzling Alfred's neck. "You will stay with me for a couple weeks, then we shall go back to your apartment, and pick up right where we left off."

"Only if you promise not to be all nice and shit, I want you to be a bastard," Alfred huffed, looping his arms around the Russian's neck. "Because getting mad at you is like, the only good thing I get out of this relationship besides the sex."

Smirking and shaking his head, Ivan stood and took Alfred with him, tossing the American over his shoulder, much to Alfred's annoyance. They left the box lying next to the fire that would soon die out.

Alfred slept well for the first time in almost a month.

Shadow's Final Thoughts/Rants: I'm really hoping to finish this story soon, and as soon as I hit up chapter fifty and finish it, you're going to see a lot more updates from LiS! So you guys keep your hopes up, I'm not daring to drop this, ever. I love you all!

Sneak Peak: *starts singing Three Way by the Lonely Island*