A/N : I apologise for the short delay, I did my best. Hope you'll like it !
Alfred was speechless. Completely, inevitably and utterly speechless. There was no way, not in a thousand years, that he could actually have heard what he thought he had just heard. Ivan had not just said that. When the young nation found his voice again, after what felt like hours and Russia's gaze had gone from his eyes to the nearest furniture, Alfred was persuaded he was going to say something coherent.
"I... you... I can't... You're..."
Unfortunately, his mouth did not cooperate one bit. But if he was honest with himself, Alfred was completely at a loss, and the loud pounding of his heart in his ribcage was making it difficult to think. The American nation knew he had to say something, but he just couldn't phrase it into words properly yet. Expected rejection flashed in Ivan's amethyst eyes, and he stepped away.
"I'll leave you be" the Russian nation said softly.
Alfred watched him turn away without a word. Ivan's pain was written all over his face, and even more obvious in the thousand of little details that composed his attitude. He hadn't been lying, and if anything, he had expected to be turned down. His confession had been said with the absolute certainty that he would spend the next decades in heartbreak and suffering.
The American nation watched his former nemesis walk towards the mini-bar, unable to form a single coherent thought. Not until Ivan's desperate - yet undoubtedly sincere - voice started looping in his head.
I love you.
The words echoed in Alfred's mind, again and again, until the realisation finally sinked in. Ivan loved him. He genuinely loved him. He loved him to the point where he was ready to lay his heart bare before him, persuaded that it would be crushed the following second.
Ivan. Loved. Him.
It was only then that Alfred blinked, and finally came back to the land of the living to notice Russia frowning at the content of the minibar, even as he was already holding a bottle of vodka in his hand. The young nation rolled his eyes. Stupid Eastern nation and his ungodly high tolerance. Well, for once, Alfred would have none of it.
Riding high on the adrenaline of his latest realisation, Alfred stopped Ivan's hand from behind, just before the bottle would reach his lips.
"Release me" Russia ordered coldly. "I actually am going to need this."
"No" Alfred objected with absolute confidence.
"I assure you I am" Ivan insisted, and his tone took a threatening edge. Alfred used their position and the fact that Ivan couldn't see his face to smirk without bothering hiding it. It was good to finally let himself show his honest reactions.
"I don't like the taste of vodka" Alfred stated, which, in his defense, was true. Not until it was mixed with something softer and preferably bubbly, at least.
"Which is why you should let me drink it" Ivan was quick to oppose.
"Which is why I shouldn't let you drink it" America countered just as quickly.
Surprisingly, Ivan obtempered. Alfred's eyes widened when he felt the hand going down to put the bottle back on the minibar, but before he could utter a single word, Ivan moved.
In the span of a second, Alfred found himself pressed against the nearest wall, his wrists held upon his head, and a pair of furious lilac eyes boring holes into his.
"Let me get a few things straight" Ivan hissed darkly. "I am in no mood to listen to one of your prohibition lectures right now. I am not surprised that you don't even condescend to give me an answer, and that is something I can accept" the Russian nation stated, his cold fury being enough of a proof that he was being honest. "But if you try to prevent me from getting wasted, things are going to go very wrong, very fast."
Alfred didn't utter a word. He couldn't. He simply couldn't. Not with the way Ivan was radiating power and fury at the moment. God, how he had missed it. How he had longed for that man's intense gaze on him again, entirely and exclusively focused on him.
America looked down, as if he was conceading defeat. Ivan waited a couple seconds, then seemed to think his message had been received, and released him. Which happened to be a big mistake.
In a split second, Alfred crouched down, and throw his right leg in a powerful arc to make Ivan fall. Right before his head touched the floor, Alfred put his hand behind it to ensure the nation wouldn't hurt himself. It only lasted the time to stop gravity's work, then he let Russia's head touch the carpet - it was insane how many of those plushy things had been put in the shelter - and blocked his hands on each part of his head, while sitting on his lap. Thus preventing the Eastern nation from moving, and ironically reenacting the position they were in not even thirty minutes ago.
"Sorry big guy" Alfred said sweetly. "I'm not letting you getting drunk tonight."
"Apparently" Ivan answered flatly. "And why is that ?"
"I told you" Alfred answered honestly, hoping that this time, his not-so-subtle innuendo would be understood. "I don't like the taste of vodka."
"So what ? I'm the one drinking it."
Alfred rolled his eyes. "And here I thought I was being clear enough" he sighed, then let go of his ex-nemesis and walked back to the bed, thinking of another way to make this stubborn man understand. Another idea came to his mind, but it required Ivan not looking at him for a few seconds.
"I'm not even going to ask for an explanation" the Russian sighed, and America turned around, frowning when he saw him reaching from the bottle again. Time to be even less subtle, indeed.
"I genuinely didn't think you would need one. Would you mind using a glass, at least ?" Alfred asked politely, and waited until he was sure Ivan was busy looking for said container. Which was a surprise in itself, since the Russian nation rarely bothered with such details, no matter the circumstances. Alfred used the few seconds he had to find the heater and turn the temperature up a bit. It made an annoying click, but one look behind him assured Alfred that Russia was busy filling up a glass with the transparent liquor.
However, his shoulders and head were lightly tense and in alert, meaning he had noticed the noises, and Alfred's smile grew wider. It was a matter of seconds before Ivan surrendered to curiosity and turned around to ask for answers. Oh, Alfred was going to have fun with this. He wasn't above payback, after all. The American nation turned around, and quickly put his jacket aside, then undid his shirt buttons. In the blink of an eye, he was shirtless, the white clothe in his right hand, the left one in his hair, his bare back turned to Ivan. Let it not be said that a few years of modelling had been for naught.
"Still" Ivan started, and Alfred grinned at the wall, "I'd like to understand. Usually, you don't give a damn about m-"
The sentence stopped abruptly, and Alfred grinned even wider. He might not be able to see Ivan's face, but he could picture it just as easily. America knew he was rather good-looking by most standards, and turned slowly to face his ex-nemesis.
The hunger in Ivan's eyes didn't disappoint him. Alfred made a show of putting his shirt on the nearest chair, flexing his abs in the process, and walked toward the bed.
"You didn't finish your sentence" he remarked innocently, then took his time to lay on the bed, doing his best to do it as slowly and sensually as he could. According to the way Ivan forced himself to put his glass aside and close his eyes, he did a fine job of it.
"I didn't know you were the sadistic type" the Russian nation stated harshly.
"I didn't know you were so slow on the uptake" Alfred countered easily. Well, if even that wasn't enough, it left him with very little choice. The young nation got out of the bed without so much as a sound, and looked at the man in front of him, whose eyelids were still stubbornly closed. America used this temporary advantage to take his sweet time looking at the Russian nation.
Even objectively speaking, Ivan was handsome. Broad and tall, just on the verge of being too much, but perfectly proportioned. Pale and delicate-looking skin, both soft to the touch and almost impossible to break. Platinum hair framing his face gracefully, and those amazing, beautiful eyes he insisted on hiding for now. And more than that, the inner strength, the raw power just waiting to unfold under this gorgeous appearance, along with the hidden humour and kindness almost no one got to see.
Everything in that man was calling to Alfred. And until a few minutes ago, he had been persuaded it had been a curse.
The American nation walked until he was less than three feet away from Ivan, then smirked.
"You know, people tend to see better with their eyes open" he pointed out curtly, all the while doing his best to not let his amusement show.
"I will open my eyes once you're dressed" was Ivan's clipped answer.
"Hmm... I don't think I will" Alfred replied easily. "It's getting pretty hot in here" he added, thinking that this time, he was being obvious enough.
And yet, Ivan proved him wrong. Again. The Russian nation turned around, and gulped quite audibly, proving he had finally opened his eyes. Ivan put his hands on the minibar for support, and given the slight shaking of said hands, he seemed to have a hard time keeping himself under control.
"Alfred. Stop that" he asked, and though America could tell the Russian wanted his tone to be commanding, it only came out as pleading. "Stay on your side of the room, I'll stay in mine, and we'll wait until someone gets us out of here."
When Ivan tried to reach for his glass, Alfred stopped him again. Really, for all his strategic genius, the man could be incredibly dense. But it was part of his charm, after all, and it wasn't as if Alfred hadn't been quite stubborn himself. Once Ivan's mind was set up on something, he would not bulge. Which proved to be exactly what Alfred needed in his life. The young nation knew he needed someone who would never submit to him, who would always be there to challenge him, no matter what. And Ivan was the only one fitting that bill.
This time, Alfred leant until his chest was against Ivan's coat, his hand firmly holding Ivan's and preventing him from bringing it to his lips. Alfred's left hand went on the Russian's shoulder, and the young nation brought his lips just under the older nation's ear.
"I told you. I don't like vodka" Alfred whispered one more time, eliciting a shiver in the Russian's body.
Yet, Ivan still didn't take the hint, and tried to keep his cool. Although he seemed to be losing this battle pretty quickly, if the frustration and annoyment dripping in his voice were any indication.
"Then remind me why should I give a fuck about it ?" Ivan retorted, his shoulder tensing under Alfred's body.
"If you drink vodka now" Alfred explained as patiently and plainly as he could, "the taste is going to linger in your mouth."
Ivan sighed, quite exasperatingly so, put his drink back on the minibar, and disentangled himself just enough to show he was going to turn around and face America. Alfred waited half a second, saw in Ivan's mesmerising amethyst eyes that he still hadn't understood, and decided he was done with subtlety.
Before Ivan could ask for an explanation, as he clearly intended to, Alfred kissed him. Not a soft, barely-there kiss like their last one in Paris. This time, Alfred crashed his lips on Ivan's, letting all his hunger, all his months of desperate pining, all his feelings pour into it. The tall nation froze for an instant, then kissed him back eagerly. His lips moved against Alfred's, conveying passion and sadness and love and abandon all in once. It was too much. It wasn't enough.
Alfred broke their kiss when the need for air became to dire to ignore, and made sure to make their forefronts connect. It was only then he realised that somehow, one of his hands was in Ivan's hair, and the other on his lower back. Apparently, months of frustration meant he couldn't keep his hands to himself, quite literally so.
Drunk off the possibility of finally getting what - or rather who - he'd been so sure he would never have again, Alfred grinned.
"Was that clear enough ?" he whispered against Ivan's mouth, ready to start kissing him again.
To his surprise, the Russian nation forced himself to move away and close his eyes briefly, but not quickly enough to hide the hurt in his lilac orbs. His entire faced was one of unadultered pain, like he wanted to hope, wanted it so badly, and yet knew it was all vain. The only time Alfred had seen this particular expression had been during the Cold War, when he had carefully manipulated Ivan into believing he could somehow escape after a capture, just before stopping him at the last minute.
In a flash, Alfred suddenly remembered what had happened after the last times he had kissed Ivan, and cringed inwardly. Maybe this hadn't been that much of a great idea after all. Ivan took Alfred's hands back from where they were, softly, slowly, and ignored his question.
Instead, the Russian nation dived right into his eyes, sadness radiating off his amethyst gaze.
"Why are you doing this ?" Ivan asked softly, the suffering obvious in his voice. "You know I won't agree to a one-night-stand where you force yourself just to see me being miserable afterwards."
That simple sentence sent Alfred's heart racing again, and somehow, he felt himself fall even deeper. Ivan was in love with him, wanted him, and yet, he was denying himself what he wanted just because he couldn't stand the idea of Alfred sleeping with him without wanting him back. Whatever Alfred had done in his past life to deserve that man, he didn't know, but he was indefinitely thankful for it.
"I won't agree to a one-night-stand either" Alfred answered honestly. Like hell he would be satisfied with one night, or worse, let anyone think this treasure of a man was available. Thank god they were all blind to his qualities and bought his cold-hearted monster act as easily as they had bought his own. Well, all except Belarus, but Alfred didn't want to think of the crazy nation right now.
Ivan frowned at his words, then narrowed his eyes, like he didn't want to believe he was reading the situation correctly.
"What do you mean ?" the Eastern nation asked, so hesitantly that Alfred's resolve wavered for a second.
Suddenly, America realised Ivan truly, sincerely believed he was pretending to make him suffer more in the long run. And that realisation alone was enough to sober him up entirely from his endorphin-induced high. Alfred sighed, then walked back to the bed, and silently asked the Russian to join him with a look.
It took half a minute, but Ivan eventually took the few steps needed and sat on the edge of the bed, as far away of Alfred as he could. The American nation rolled his eyes, made himself comfortable, hands behind his neck, put his gaze on the white, boring ceiling, and started talking.
If Ivan needed honesty, then honesty he would get.
"Just so we're clear" Alfred started, making his voice as even and composed as he could. "As of now, you think I will never forgive you, correct ?"
If Ivan tensed suddenly, Alfred pretended not to notice.
"I see you feel the need to state the obvious" the Russian said.
"And you are persuaded of this because of what my brother told you, still good ?" Alfred pushed, just to ensure all bases were covered.
"Yes" was Ivan's short reply.
Alfred let his smile show. "Or, to be more accurate, you base this assumption on what my brother didn't tell you. Correct ?"
The way Ivan suddently stilled, both guarded and hopeful despite himself, didn't escape Alfred's watch.
"What do you mean ?" Ivan asked cautiously for the second time.
"Did my brother tell you to forget about me because I would never reciprocate your feelings ?" Alfred retorted, almost certain of the answer but in need of a confirmation nonetheless.
"Not textually" Ivan admitted reluctantly, "but it doesn't change a lo-"
"It does change a lot of things though" Alfred cut him off. "For example, it means you don't actually know what he and I talked about the night before I left, do you ?"
"I don't. But if this is some twisted way to lead me to hearing the list of various reasons why you hate me, I think you ought to know I am already painfully aware of most of them."
Alfred barely refrained from laughing outright at that. With France and England as parents, he had grown up with a very unconventional idea of romance, and listing his beloved's flaws didn't even reach the top five of the worst things to do to get said beloved's attention.
Instead, his smiled took a bitter edge as he remembered this particular conversation with his twin.
"That's not what I had in mind" Alfred answered. "But I think you should know he insisted a lot about me being honest with you. He wanted me to tell you once and for all that I would never forgive you, and that I would never love you back."
"Wonderful" Ivan retorted ironically.
"Wanna know the worst part ?" Alfred asked rethorically. "I had to tell him I would never do that."
"So instead of a list of the reasons why you hate me, I'm going to have to listen to the list of reasons why I won't make a suitable partner for you, is that what it is ? And here I thought this evening couldn't get any worse. By all means, enlighten me" Ivan sighed.
Alfred took a deep breath, then made sure his eyes were firmly focused on the ceiling. This particular admission was still difficult to voice out loud.
"I had to tell him I would never do that because that's the one thing I couldn't bear to lie about" the American nation stated, and winced at the way his voice trembled at the end of his sentence.
Finally, the raw truth was lying in the open. As he noticed Ivan going still from the corner of his eyes, Alfred took a deep breath. There was no going back now.
"I couldn't tell you I hate you. Because I don't" Alfred whispered. Ivan started to actually turn to look at him, and Alfred made a point to keep his eyes focused on the ceiling. Months of heartbreak, years of hatred and decades of distrust would not fade so easily, the American nation knew it. He simply had to imagine he wasn't looking straight into hopeful lilac eyes, that Ivan's face wasn't a few feet from him, hoping for something he knew he shouldn't let himself hope for.
Alfred kept talking to the ceiling. "You put too much of yourself into Anya. When I look at you, I see the person I fell in love with, no matter what you look like. Trust me" Alfred added with a wicked grin, "I did my damned best to hate you when I realised you and Anya were two sides of the same coin."
A sharped intake of breath was his only reply for a while, then a soft voice rised, tentatively so. "Did it work ?"
Alfred laughed. Honestly, genuinely laughed, at how ridiculous the idea was. "As if ! I've had an easier time getting rid of you during the Cold War !"
The American nation didn't have to wait before he felt the mattress shift under Ivan's weight, the Russian carefully, slowly moving until his face was right above Alfred's, eyes shining with love and a hint of disbelief. Ivan's hand cupped his face, softly, unsure whether it was welcome or not despite the undirect confession. Alfred briefly closed his eyes and let himself enjoy the touch. Ivan's hand was cold against his skin, and pleasantly refreshing.
"So... are you saying you don't want to get rid of me anymore ?" Ivan asked when Alfred opened his eyes, still hesitant despite the multiple hints that had been sent his way during the past minutes.
"Nah" the younger nation replied with a cheeky grin. "That's too much of an effort, and I realised a while ago how useless it was to try in the first place."
"Mmh. My apologies" the Russian nation said, his purple eyes driving right into Alfred's blue ones and taking away part of his ability to think. "Giving up is not exactly in my nature."
"I noticed" Alfred grinned, and brought his hand at the junction between Ivan's neck and his annoying scarf. "By the way, I'm aware you can handle the cold like no one else, but it's getting pretty warm in here. I think even you should be comfortable without a coat and scarf" the young nation said with an innocent face.
Ivan arched an eyebrow at his cheeky attitude, not fooled for an instant, but his smile was displaying too much happiness for his expression to be as sarcastic as he clearly intended to
"So that's what you were up to while I was trying to drown my despair in vodka."
"Guilty as charged" Alfred retorted without feeling remorseful in the least, his grin wide and happy.
Ivan looked at him for a minute. Intensely. Up and down. Appraising him. Worshipping him. To the point Alfred almost felt like blushing or averting his gaze. Almost. Then, Ivan smirked, and got off the bed.
"Actually, I think I need a bath. A ten-hours flight followed by a day of political meeting is rather tiring, you know ?"
Alfred watched the Russian nation walk away in the bathroom's direction, slowly discarding his coat to reveal a grey shirt, and followed by putting his scarf on a chair. Then, Ivan obviously starting to undo said shirt's buttons, and Alfred belatedly realised he was gaping when Ivan turned to look at him with a knowing smirk.
"Feel free to join me" Russia said, then walked into the bathroom.
It took Alfred ten long seconds to understand what Ivan was implying, during which his brain focused far too much on the distinctive sound of clothes being discarded. Then, it took the young nation five more seconds to stop gaping and get off the bed in a hurry. That was an invitation Alfred would be damned before he refused it.
He was barefoot by the time he reached the bathroom door, the distance too short to allow him to drop more than that without losing time on the way. Alfred walked inside, and frowned at the visibly empty place.
"What the hell ?" America muttered, and felt the presence in his back half a second too late.
A distinctive chuckle echoed behind him, just as two arms sneaked their way around his waist to pull him against a wide chest. The skin-on-skin contact made Alfred's breath stop briefly, but he made no move to resist.
"Did you really think I would make things this easy ?" Ivan whispered just under his ear, eliciting a shiver down Alfred's spine. "Seriously, you didn't even notice there's no water running into that bathtub" the Russian added in playful disapproval.
The comeback Alfred had in mind went right through the window when Ivan's hands started caressing his skin, his left one playing with the hem of his pants while the other slowly made his way up, bringing the American nation closer to Ivan. Alfred suddenly remembered that Ivan had never been one to play fair, no matter the game. He smiled, and let himself completely fall against Russia's body, enjoying the difference of temperature between them.
"I think I'm allowed to be a little distracted right now" Alfred eventually said, his hands moving to cover Ivan's.
Humming was his only answer for some time, until the young nation felt lips on his neck and he temporarily forgot how to think. The Russian nation left a tray of feather-like kisses that had Alfred melt, until Ivan stopped a bit above a collar's level, and suddenly started nipping at the skin. It was unexpected, and the American nation gasped in surpise.
"What the... Ivan, you know hickeys disappear just like bruises on us, right ?" Alfred chuckled when he understood what his enemy-turned-lover was up to. Ivan sucked on his skin a bit harder, which had Alfred shudder in pleasure, then let go with a pop.
"Unfortunately. But it will take a couple of hours for them to fade nonetheless" the Russian nation added in a low voice. "I'm curious to see how long this one is going to last."
The hint of possessiveness at the end of his explanation made something click in Alfred's head, despite the rising arousal demanding more and more of his attention.
"Wait a minute" Alfred chuckled in disbelief. "Is this a plot to see when you need to mark me to ensure everyone else will see it ?"
Ivan went back to kissing his neck, but the smile against his skin completely gave him away. "It might be" Russia murmured in a low voice, blowing hot air on Alfred's already sensitive skin. "I want everyone to know you're off the market from now on" he added in a darker voice.
Alfred grinned, then reached behind him with his hand to turn Ivan's head and plant a harsh kiss on his lips. Their position wasn't ideal, but the raw need and desire was more than clear.
"I'd say it goes both ways" Alfred smirked when they stopped to breathe, "but I think neither of us was really on the market to begin with."
"Finally something we can agree on" Ivan chuckled, and the way his body moved against Alfred's back made something in his mind snap. Snarky comebacks could wait.
Alfred turned around to face Ivan. His left hand roamed languidly on the Russian's bare skin, while the other found his way to Ivan's face, his fingers slowly tracing the contour of his lips.
"I think I remember a few other things we used to agree on" America said knowingly, and didn't miss the way Ivan's eyes darkened with lust. The last working part of Alfred's mind suddenly decided he wasn't so worried anymore about getting trapped in here with Ivan for the next hours.