NoticedChapter Two – Crocodile Tears
Author: Queen Celestia
Betareader: daedricgurl
Warnings: Canadian weather humour, sex
AN: Didn't realize this story would be so popular. Here is a present for you guys. Hope it lives up to your mad dreams…
Yes, there is quite literally vodka made from the tail ends of maple syrup. And sure there may be a party in Sweden's pants but thinking out how he speaks is a killer.
Characters prob OOC I wasn't sure on Denmark exactly, he seems to be the 'have lots of fun be a bully' type from what I can tell.
Note: Twenty as in Twenty Celsius. Too lazy to go figure out archaic Fahrenheit system.
Xxxxxxx
Russia had a problem.
Not that he would admit it.
Hell, even vodka couldn't entirely wipe out the sweat, the pain, the absolute fucking pleasure of the invasion, the soft look, the contented sighs, the being treated like a fucking somebody for once instead of a fucking monster. The last person who had treated him like a somebody had been Ukraine, until she had turned her back on him entirely.
Hell even his scarf was ruined. The fond memory of Ukraine giving it to him had been completely taken over by the smell of sex, the sweat, the splashes of semen that had somehow made it onto it. His dirty scarf that still smelt like him, that he wrapped tightly around his face pretending it was cold, so as to not receive strange looks.
He was avoiding strange looks entirely, especially since the time Belarus had caught him drinking maple vodka.
After her scrutinizing stare, he had been able to explain away wanting to try various types of vodka, and that this one had interested him. She seemed to have bought it. However, whenever he wanted the strange taste of maple vodka, he had to drink it in secret, ever fearful that she would suspect anything more.
His problem would also explain why he felt such a big let down at this years Arctic Meeting, that was being held at Canada's house. He expected to see the powerful sex machine, not the quivering man clutching a polar bear, softly greeting the group at the beginning of the meeting.
America seemed to be trying very hard not to take charge of the meeting, while the other countries were attempting to be polite and listen to the quiet voice. Hell, Ivan half expected the Canadian to disappear from view completely at any moment.
Had that strange day on the table been a fantasy of sorts? Had he drunk too much vodka and had a vivid hallucination? Had the maple vodka begun to rot his brain?
The usual agenda, talking about preserving the arctic, the peoples rights, who owned what, blah blah blah.
"I've got a suggestion," Denmark burst out, after the agenda had been read.
"W-what would that be?"
Canada asked, as he set the paper down, and turned politely to the speaking nation.
"Why don't you fucking get green?"
"Eh?"
"I know you, boning on about your oil sands, if you want to fucking preserve the arctic why do you keep refusing Germany's and my proposals for things like wind energy? So behind the times, not even following along to the Kyoto Accord-"
"Hey! This isn't a meeting to team up on Mattie!" Alfred burst in.
Alfred's comment seemed to only aggravate Denmark, as he snorted.
"So says the country who didn't even bother signing the Kyoto Accord."
The other countries watched, whilst a fight of words broke out between America and Denmark, Canada just watching, before in his timid voice trying to calm the two down.
"Ano, I think we are off topic now," the soft voice kept repeating.
Finally, seeming to take pity on the nation, Sweden spoke up.
"Nuff said. W're not h're ta f'ght."
"Su-sans right." Finland chimed in. "We need to follow the agenda, we don't have time to fight."
It grated on Ivan's nerves at the thankful look Canada shot the other nations, before the meeting got back on track.
By the time lunch rolled around, Ivan was convinced that what happened at the G8 meeting had been a hallucination. The more he logically thought about it, the more he decided that no one would ever be considerate of him in that way, or even want to invite him to their house.
No one ever invited him to their house, except that one time Yao did, but…
No one had invited him of their own accord.
"You really should get green!"
Denmark's threatening tones caught Ivan's attention, and he looked over into a small room, that had Canada being cornered by the other nation.
"I try – but I can't help who my people vote for!"
Came the soft response, however, Denmark didn't seem to be listening, as he drew himself up, his manner threatening.
"You seem to be too concerned about your economy! What will happen to the arctic if it all melts away!"
"I try, I even had one party propose the carbon tax plan you use but the people didn't like it!"
Came the soft rebuttal, but it seemed as if the words seemed to fall upon deaf ears, as Denmark leaned in, his eyes narrowing.
"I think you don't even deserve any claim to Hans Island. I think you should just give it up."
His hand reached out, his thumb brushing against Matthew's cheek, the other nation trembling.
"It would be so easy to just take if from you, you wouldn't put up much of a fight."
Ivan watched with amazement, as Matthews eyes easily filled with tears, causing Denmark to grin even more evilly.
"Crying over a simple little threat? Ohh boy, this looks like fun."
Purple eyes slid away from Denmark's face, and connected with Ivan's, the frightened look replaced by tiredness, before returning to the man before him. A jolt seemed to start from that connection, and Ivan felt himself moving before he could think.
"What is this?" His Russian accent seemed to be thicker at the sudden anger he felt, that Denmark would even think it a good idea to corner the nation privately, threaten him so openly.
Jumping as if he had just been hit, Denmark cast a wary look over to the large nation.
"Russia… I didn't realize you were here… me and Mattie were just having a nice talk about going greener! Right?"
Denmarks easy smile seemed to erase the grin of a moment ago, and Matthew warily nodded.
"Well I guess it's time to eat… see you around Mattie!"
With a wave Denmark disappeared out of the room, shooting a worried look over towards Ivan.
"Thanks."
Ivan turned his attention fully to the Canadian, who bent down, and picked up his polar bear.
"No problem, but you shouldn't allow yourself to be bullied like that."
Came the response. Now that he looked closer, the Canadian looked very tired, however when those purple eyes connected with his, Ivan felt that strange tingle in the gut of his stomach; eyes that seemed to hold some hidden meaning.
"It's easier that way. Means they leave me alone most of the time. Denmark will just go home and grumble about things, but mostly forget until the next meeting we have together. Plus I can't really defend myself, when part of me agrees."
The way he stated it so matter of fact, made Ivan feel bad, and he watched helplessly as the Canadian slipped out of the room. What was he supposed to say? The way the man slipped past him, it certainly seemed as if he had imagined what had happened at the G8 meeting, not even a coy glance or a passing word.
Following the man out, he watched with some interested as the Canadian ran into Norway and started up a conversation, actually getting some sort of response. Since when were Canada and Norway best friends?
That strange feeling around his chest started up again, and Ivan decided to ignore it, leave them alone, ignore the pain he felt at being pretty much ignored by the nation he had been entirely obsessed with. He shouldn't even be surprised, this was what always happened.
Lunch passed by after a couple bottles of vodka, and the resumed meeting seemed to be going as expected. Matthews voice seemed to be a bit firmer, and they did manage to get somewhere with something, but Ivan really didn't care, all he could do was stare at the Canadian, feeling confused and angry.
When the meeting wrapped up, Ivan watched as Alfred seemed to forget entirely why he was there, and exit the room grumbling about needing a milkshake, the other countries also clumped up and away from him, only Finland casting a shy smile, before exiting. He turned his attention over to Matthew, who had stayed behind to clear the room up.
It took a moment for the Canadian to realize he was being stared at, but when he did, he looked up, and shot a soft smile towards the larger man. That strange squeezing feeling around his heart was back again, and Ivan found himself smiling back.
"Is there anything you need?"
The silence hung between them, before Ivan shook his head, "Nothing, da."
He left the room, feeling the puzzled look shot at him. What had he been expecting? That offer to eat pancakes and maple syrup to actually be good?
Disturbed, he went to the room he was staying at, and decided to lock himself in with a couple bottles of vodka.
He was well onto his way into a nice buzz, when he heard the room next to his open up, and then close. Nothing too exciting, however he couldn't remember who had been placed beside him from the schedule. No one ever wanted to be by him if they could help it. Reaching over, he grabbed the schedule and noted with surprise, that the only room next to his was Matthews.
Matthew had made the room arrangements so that meant… He heard the door open again, and he quickly got onto his feet.
Opening his door, his eyes widened as he took in the retreating Canadians outfit.
A tight red shirt, that showed the light skin of his back, and no doubt belly, ripped tight blue jeans, and his hair pulled back?
Where ever could he be going like that?
Closing the door quietly behind him, Ivan followed the Canadian into the warm May evening, the setting sun sending dark shadows across the city.
The walking was brisk, and he watched with interest as Matthew turned down what looked like an alley, and entered a place with a small door, that had bouncers outside.
A night club?
He eyed the title of the club –The Toolbox- before looking at the small rainbow flag plastered on the door. The bouncers were eyeing Ivan with some suspicion, probably from just standing there, or the scarf he insisted on wearing despite the warm weather. He had left his jacket back in his room, but that didn't matter, he wasn't worried about freak snowstorms with how warm it was.
Making sure he had his wallet, Ivan made his way into the club, giving a nod, to the shorter bouncer, before going down the stairs into the dark mouth. Strobe lights, thumping music, and body sweat assaulted Ivan's senses, before the loincloth clad dancing bartender assaulted his vision.
"Hey sweetie, what would you like to drink?" the bartender asked in a heavy Iranian accent, his dark eyes drinking in the Russian.
"Vodka," came the automatic response.
"Fabulous!" the bar tender butt waggled his way towards the vodka, while Ivan attempted to get used to the lighting of the room to see where Matthew had gone.
Under the lights, in the middle of the floor, his eyes fell upon the writhing man, apparently the center of attention. Outrageously flirting with everyone around him, his dancing frantic, his hair falling out of the hair tie, in long silky strands. Matthew hadn't been there long enough to work up a full sweat, but from the light glisten on his forehead, Ivan knew that it wouldn't be long.
"Here."
"Thanks." The Russian picked up the glass of vodka, and drank it, watching with narrowed eyes as a dark haired native male slithered up to the blond, his hands starting to reach and touch without being rejected.
"He's dreamy isn't he?"
"Hm?" Ivan grunted, not bothering to look at the bartender.
"That blond on the floor, you're staring a hole right through him. I wouldn't set your heart on him if I were you though."
"Why not?" the question slipped out, and Ivan half wondered where it came from.
"Honey, if you clutch that glass any tighter you're going to break it."
Ivan set it firmly down on the counter, his purple eyes meeting the dark brown, "Why should I not watch him?"
"Well, he's notorious here, that's all. Good for a one night stand not much else… I'd love to get into his pants. Everyone pretty much has a small crush on him, and from the rumours he's very good in bed."
"Rumours?"
"Mmhmm he's our resident man whore. But I wouldn't count on your luck tonight, seems he's got some interest in Ben. They look pretty intense."
Ivan looked over, to see Matthews arms draped lazily over the larger mans shoulders, their bodies grinding close together in time to the music.
"Does he ever get in trouble?"
"No. Well once, but don't be fooled by that boy. That honey can take care of himself."
Ivan barely heard the reply, as he pushed himself away from the bar, feeling a crushing pain in his chest as he pushed his way through the mob of sweaty partially dressed men.
"Heeeey~ Watch out~"
"Hey baby, mind dancing with me?"
Hands reached out, some more flirtatious than others, as he felt his ass groped, and even, his crotch.
But Ivan ignored, continuing to plow through, until he stood behind the dark man, and managed to say.
"I can interrupt da?"
Violet eyes popped open, and looked at him in clear shock, while the man – Ben, replied, "No honey, go get yourself someone different this one is taken."
Matthew must have noticed the dangerous glint in the Russians eye, as he pulled away out of Bens grasp.
"Matty?"
The tension between the three was thick, as the blond glanced guiltily between the two, before turning sincerely apologetic eyes upon Ben.
"I'm sorry Ben," he took Bens hand in two of his, and held it up to his lips, "My friend here is someone I haven't seen for awhile. Perhaps we shall continue later oui?"
A pout from the native, before a rolling of the eyes and an expelled.
"Alriiight. Let me go so we can stop clogging up the floor and dance."
The hand slid out of Matthews grasp, and in a moment the other man was gone, leaving Matthew alone with Ivan.
Bodies crushed in on either side, forcing them close together, and, with a muttered 'sorry' Matthew put his hands up against Ivans chest, and began to get back into time with the music.
Taking the hint, Ivan awkwardly began to get into the music, but was still too angry to fully relax into the Canadian's sway.
Pounding music made it impossible for Matthew to state his question, so he slowly began to manoeuvre them out of the dancing mass, before slipping off to the side away from the dance floor, to a small unoccupied table.
"What are you doing here Ivan?" His hand had unconsciously slipped into the larger hand, pulling the Russian along.
A moment, before the hand slipped out, laid flat against the table.
"I followed you." Ivan shot dirty glances to those clearly checking Matthew out, hoping it was enough to wither any sort of desire.
"Oh? I didn't know you liked these kinds of places."
"We have these in Russia of course. But not so… open."
"Mmm I guess so." Matthews eyes were drifting across the crowd, as if looking for his next meal.
"What do you want? Or are you here just to pull like me?"
"That bartender said you were a man whore."
"Felice? Yeah, about right. Can't exactly have long term relationships, can we?" A bitter remark.
A stinging slice into Ivan's obsession.
Eyeing the lithe form in front of him, and wanting to get out of the dangerous bar, where too many men seemed to be taking an interest in Matthew. Ivan leaned closer to the Canadian, laying on his accent thick.
"Let's skip the searching and just pull each other da?"
Startled violet eyes, a quick snap of the head, lips breathless inches from each other.
"Wha?"
Possessively, Ivan's hands moved, rested on the hips of the Canadian, as he said, louder.
"Just go back to the hotel, we work well together. No need to fuss with these."
A moment where eyes locked together, and Ivan wondered for an insane moment if the Canadian would just reject him.
Instead, a half smile, the eyes glittering with something that Ivan only half remembered from his fantasies.
"Sure, whatever you say eh?"
Exiting the club, Ivan shivered at the sudden coolness of the night air wrapping around them, before his eyes widened in surprise as a fine white snowflake flew before his eyes.
Matthew seemed unfazed, as he rubbed his arms, and looked up at the sky in a long suffering manner.
"Vot is this? It was twenty when we came in."
Matthew smiled, "This is Canada eh. Never be surprised when a snowstorm appears."
Matthews hand reached down and took Ivan's, giving it a squeeze.
"Let's get back to the hotel so we don't get caught up in it."
Quick scurrying along sidewalks, the wind blowing against their shivering forms, dancing from one puddle of light to the next, intoxication of lust and excitement thrumming through their bodies, passing through their connected fingers.
The hotel lobby, nearly empty, only getting the curious look from Iceland, before jogging down the hall towards a room. Being pushed against the door, sharing a brief kiss, before Ivan unlocked the door, opening it with a squirming Canadian trying to free himself from the larger Russians body and the cold unforgiving door.
A click as the door locked behind them, as frantic hands quickly removed offending articles of clothing, a hungry Canadian ready to feast on an equally hungry Russian.
Ivan barely had time to remove his pants, before he was tackled to the bed, Matthews lips firmly placed against his, moving against his chest, caressing and touching.
Hell, Ivan hadn't even time to properly remove his scarf, except from the way Matthew was biting his lower lip, he figured it wasn't that big of a problem.
The younger nations penis pressed hotly against his bare stomach, the precum rubbing and creating a sticky mess.
"Do you have lube or something?" came Matthews light growl, as he rubbed against Ivan.
"No," came the response, Ivan hadn't actually thought that far ahead.
"Fuck – no wait."
Matthews body heat quickly left him, and Ivan watched the mans slender hips as he quickly entered the bathroom, before coming out with the small bottle of complementary lotion.
"This'll do."
The Canadian's cock bounced with each step he took, his stride fast, before crawling onto the bed with the Russian.
Ivan had sat up slightly, before moving to take off his scarf.
"Don't."
Came the sharp command, making Ivan pause mid way.
"Keep it on…" Flushed cheeks, as if this was the worst part of what they were about to do.
"I like it."
"Ok." Ivan watched, while Matthew sat there awkwardly, the bottle rolling about in his hands, wondering why the man had suddenly stopped.
Looking a little to the side, seeming to focus on Ivan's knee, the pink cheeked Canadian murmured, "So uhm… do you wanna top or something?"
What the –
Noticing the silence, Matthew glanced over to Ivan, getting the blank stare.
"I mean I know last time I like uhm, top, but I mean, you could-"
Ivan didn't know what to do, inwardly he panicked for a moment, before a small smile crossed his face, at the open offer.
"Sure, I'll top."
"Ok."
As if that question resolved all awkwardness between them, Matthew opened the bottle and poured some cream onto his hand.
Curious, Ivan watched as the other man lay back on the bed, and spread his legs revealing his bare puckered hole to him.
Violet eyes looked over to him before, with a grunt, a well lotioned finger rubbed against his pucker.
Was he- Ivan swallowed as he watched the Canadian begin to finger himself, the index finger going in first, the resistance clear, before with a shove, being swallowed.
With his other hand, Matthew gripped his weeping cock, gently pulling, giving slight moans of pleasure, before slipping in another finger, gently stretching.
Shifting, Ivan sat up more, his back against the head board, eyes enthralled with the Canadian. He didn't know where to look, at the delicious pucker being filled by two fingers, the dripping erect cock, or the flushed face, slightly scrunched up in concentration, glasses slipping down the bridge of the nose.
Idly, he began to stroke himself whilst watching, his hold getting stronger the moment the third finger slipped in.
Watching as the hole widened, the three fingers thrusting in and out, made Ivan want to come right there, but he managed to hold back.
With a pop, the fingers pulled out, before with a grunt, the panting Canadian fully sat up again, eyeing Ivan's dick with hunger.
Crawling over to the Russian, Matthew placed a soft kiss upon the knuckles of the hand Ivan was using to stroke his cock, before a sly tongue poked out, and licked, brushing over the knuckles onto the cock.
"Let go." A soft murmur, one that brooked no argument.
Releasing, Ivan settled his hand into the blond wavy hair, the soft strands easily falling between his fingers, whilst a talented mouth engulfed him.
Soft lips brushed against his skin, before a wet heat swallowed, the tongue pressing and plying, lathering saliva on him, before, with a soft pop, his cock was released, glistening strands of saliva connecting the sinful mouth and aching penis.
A tilt of the head, warm violet eyes looking up at him, a soft smile on his lips, before moving out of Ivans grasp, strands of hair softly brushing against his fingers.
He watched, as Matthew leant forward, connecting their lips, before firm hands settled on his shoulders, using them as leverage as he lifted himself and straddled Ivans waist.
"This way's ok yeah?" a soft murmur, not totally a question, as a hand went back and grasped Ivan's cock, placing the blunt weeping head against the prepared hole.
Sweet softness, tight around him, the cock stretching and filling, as Matthew lets Ivan enter him.
Face twisted in pain from the stretching, Ivan can't take his eyes away from the expression especially when the eyes open shining with something he hadn't seen in a long time.
Trust.
Finally, after a seemingly tortuously long time, Ivan is fully engulfed in Matthew, the Canadian's soft ass resting on his slightly raised legs, forehead going and resting against the crook of his neck, heavy breaths filling the room.
"Nngggg, fucking big," a whine.
Ivan had never been in this situation before, he doesn't know where to put his hands.
Hesitantly, hoping that the Canadian doesn't notice the pause, he places his hands on the Canadian's waist, feeling soft skin, usually hidden to the world.
When Matthews breaths finally calmed down, he finally begins to move.
A slow lift, before falling, the smooth friction causing Ivan's thoughts to swirl and break apart like fractioned puzzle pieces.
Matthew stops again, resting, before taking the ends of Ivans scarf, and resting them over his own shoulders, like a strange cloth connection.
Noticing the stare, Matthew smiles, before replying, "I like it."
And then he starts to move again, slow, but gaining speed, soft moans coming out, as he gets filled over and over again, Ivan unable to take it – so long since he had actually done this, filled anyone up, especially someone who was so willing.
A cry, and he comes, embarrassingly fast, but he doesn't give a fuck, as the tight heat milks him, his cum filling up the Canadian's ass.
The hot cock pressing against his stomach informs him that his partner has not come.
And for a brief instant, he feels something he's not used to – concern.
"You haven't completed." Ivan states, his violet eyes looking at the resting Canadian, whose ass is still fully engulfing him.
"Don't worry eh." Comes the pant, before, with a groan, Matthew hoists himself out of Ivans lap, the thick cum dribbling down his inner thigh.
"What are you doing?"
Devilish purple eyes look to him, as the Canadian sits beside him, hand searching for the cream.
"I'm gonna fuck you." An easy response, "To be honest I've been wanting to do it all day."
"What?" The words take Ivan aback, the Canadian certainly hasn't acted like he was ready to fuck all day.
A light flush, as the hand grabs the cream, opens it up, eyes that don't quite meet his.
"Yeah."
"You didn't seem to."
Fingers are once again coated in the cream, before Matthew moves between Ivans open legs, and presses an exploratory finger against his anus.
"Just cuz I may not be like Francis and act like a rutting animal in heat, doesn't mean I don't think dirty thoughts while presenting things."
The finger goes in, and Ivan tenses up.
"Relax eh? Spent all day wondering how I could get you to agree to fuck."
A soothing hand rests against Ivan's hip, as the finger pushes farther in.
"Then what about the club?"
"Went there to release sexual frustration. Didn't think you'd actually follow me."
Light thrusts of the finger, exploring and rubbing.
"Lucky I did then."
"Mmhmm, this will go a hell of a long way for my dirty daydream collection when Alfred makes his next presentation."
A second finger added in, the discomfort there, but nothing to show a raging pain.
Fingers brush against Ivan's prostate, jolting his cock awake.
Ivan is ashamed to even admit to himself, that when he thought of sex with the Canadian, being submissive was what he really wanted.
Not that he would actually let the Canadian know that, he would just let him continue to think that the whole gentle invasion was his idea.
A third finger added, the discomfort even more, and Ivan tries hard to remember to relax.
The fingers pull out, and Ivan watches as Matthew rubs the cream onto his red weeping erection.
Firm hands settle on his legs, keeping them apart, as the Canadian lines himself up.
"Ready?"
A nod, before the hot cock pushes inside, slowly filling and stretching, before firmly settling in.
Loud breathes fill the room, before Matthew takes one of Ivans strong legs, and lifts it to wrap around his waist.
He then leans forward, and captures Ivans full lips with his, a comforting kiss, waiting until Ivan is comfortable enough to move.
"Move damnit."
A command, one that Matthew gladly accepts, as he pulls out, and then slams back in.
Ivan's loud moan of approval masks the loud smacking of skin, as the pistoning continues.
It doesn't take long for both of them to finish, Ivan coming first, his squeezing body forcing Matthew to come not long after.
Collapsing on top of the larger body, the hot cum squished between them, Matthew attempts to gain some air, his entire body pleasantly jellified.
With a pop, he pulls out, before shifting his body beside Ivan, curling up beside the Russian, his leg splayed lazily over a thick well muscled thigh.
It only takes a moment for Ivan to realize, that the Canadian has fallen completely and deeply asleep beside him.
Xxxxxxxxx
AN: There we go. A part two of sorts. Oh, I also have a blog, if you want to follow, see sneak peaks and/or bother me about when the next update is. Since I'm assuming you're all of age, I shouldn't worry about whether or not you can read my posts. Make sure to delete the spaces. : D
http:/ queen-celestia. livejournal. com /