[Fic] You Should Drop By More Often {RussiaxLiet}}
Title: You Should Drop By More Often
Characters/pairing(s): Russia/Lithuania
Rating: R, for sex and descriptions of gore
Gifter: rooibusluv
Giftee: thesikorsky
Prompt: a vampire AU Russia/Lithuania fic
For several minutes he stared at the man, unable to speak, as the Russian shuddered in the bathtub of the small Vilnius apartment. But visits from Russia were rare, so Lithuania’s behavior could be excused.
Finally, Lithuania set his pistol on the blood-flecked title and brushed Russia’s shoulder with a trembling hand. He murmured the name, once, twice...
Again.
The nation stirred.
“Liet?” Russia mumbled. His lips were caked with dark blood. “Liet!” Red-rimmed purple eyes lit up as he uncurled from his shuddering knot. “It is so good to see you, Liet... H-how have you been?”
Lithuania resisted the urge to reach for the handgun behind him. “What are you doing here?”
Russia glanced behind Lithuania and grimaced at the half-dried crimson spread behind the man. “I’m sorry...I...I made a mess.” He gripped the side of the bathtub with a wet hand. “I will help you clean it up, da?”
“Russia.” As stern as the Baltic attempted to make his voice, a slight tremble still remained from his Soviet years when he met those wide wide violets. “What are you doing here.”
“I’m sorry,” Russia repeated. He reached out for Lithuania’s arm. The man jerked away. “Do not be angry, da? I simply...did not know where else to go...I --”
“Please, understand me,” Lithuania cut in. He knit his fingers and rested them on his lap. “I come home from work and find my apartment has been broken into, the door half-ripped off its hinges, the lock broken --”
“I will pay for --”
“Please!”
Russia stared at the porcelain.
“And blood is...everywhere.”
He had taken out the pistol at that point, gone to the his desk with his heart beating in his throat and gripped the gun like a lifeline.
“I follow a trail -- because there is enough blood to be a trail -- to my bathroom and find...you, curled up, unresponsive, and covered in the blood.”
Russia looked like a shame-faced child.
“I don’t want your help or your money. If you won’t tell me what you’re doing here at least tell me one thing.”
The blond flicked his eyes up, unable to fully meet Lithuania’s gaze.
“Is this your blood or someone else’s?”
In the long pause, Lithuania let out a long sigh. I won’t sleep tonight.
“Who, Russ--”
And then Russia gripped the cloth at his shoulder, the blood-soaked suit jacket and dress shirt beneath it, and pushed it all away to reveal the rent edged with frayed skin in his fascinatingly pale neck. Lithuania felt his dinner rise to the back of his throat, but he leaned forward. “Russia, Russia, oh God -- oh God who did this to you? What...what happened? We need to get you to a hospital or you’ll --”
“No, please, no hospitals.” The blond waved the man away. “I have had worse.”
“Worse?” Lithuania echoed incredulously. “Russia, this isn’t the Great Patriotic War! You need help --”
“I need you, Liet.”
A bright flush threatened to overtake Lithuania’s face, but he battled it away with sheer force of will.
“I...I don’t understand...”
Russia leaned forward, gripping the rim of the tub. “I need you.”
This time the flush raged across his cheeks, turning deeper as Russia leaned in and tilted his head. His lips brushed the man’s neck.
“I do not quite understand either, but...I believe it is the proper thing to do in this situation, da?”
A long hot shudder raced up Lithuania’s spine as Russia ran his lips along the ruddy skin.
“I have always wondered how you taste...but it is unfortunate that I only now get to try you.” His damp, cold hands pushed away Lithuania’s collar. His tie smeared through the blood beneath them as Russia discarded it.
Lithuania could hardly breathe -- something had lodged itself under his diaphragm, but at the moment, nothing in his body seemed to be working properly, least of all his lungs...
Especially as Russia breathed in and sank fangs into the Baltic’s neck. With each pull of sweet, warm blood, he drew a scream from Lithuania, whose hands had worked their way into the folds of the former-Soviet’s shirt and held a panicked grip on the fabric.
They found their way to the floor, Russia drinking and drinking. Lithuania jostled and bucked under him. He didn’t mean to throw off the man -- it was ridiculous to even think of such a thing -- he merely wanted to assert himself, make sure he was still able to move, still alive. Each movement brought a low grunt from the Russian, of frustration or something else, Lithuania wasn’t sure.
Russia wanted more more as he pulled out and away, but he knew there was little left to take, just enough for Lithuania’s body to make do. He sucked and laved the wound with his tongue, gently... He had tried so hard to be gentle, but in his fervor he seemed to have torn more than he intended. The bite wasn’t the romantic pricks so affectionately described in fiction; it was a ring, the inverse of Russia’s teeth, and each red splotch had an accompanying torn tail from where he couldn’t help himself.
Lithuania swept his hands through the gory slick, scrambling upright. He dropped his head to Russia’s chest, sobbing panicked breaths and choking every time he smelled the heady, coppery stench that had spread through his apartment. Russia gave a smile and let the man doze, but the rest didn’t last long. Lithuania gave a start and glanced around, finally resting his eyes on Russia’s beaming grin.
“Thank you.”
The former leaned into the following embrace, too dizzy and lost to do much all. Russia smoothed down his meal’s dripping wet hair and murmured into an unmarred section of skin, “You are so delicious, Liet.”
All Lithuania could sense was blood, wet and cloying and sickly sweet. It pervaded everything so completely it took several moments for him to notice Russia was generously dotting his skin with light kisses. He hummed something old and held Lithuania close.
“Why did you need me?”
Save for the occasional mumble of street traffic, it was quiet.
“After...I was...attacked...all I could...think of...was...you,” was the halting reply interrupted by the brush of lips across Lithuania’s face. “I knew...I needed to eat...and I could think of...no one...but my Liet.”
Lithuania untangled his hand from Russia’s clothing with only mild reluctance and cupped the back of the nation’s neck, causing the latter to meet his eyes, and in a moment, his lips.
Blood, Lithuania remembered, tasted significantly better than it smelled. But if he truly tried to push past that metallic tang, he could recognize Russia’s sapor: part tobacco, part vodka, part thick ambiguous tastes from this or that folk food. He ran his tongue around the inside of the man’s mouth, searching for something past his own lingering remnants.
Before long, their hands were in motion, not content to politely curl around each other’s curves. The fingers dipped and traced, curious, before peeling away the damp clothing, and their legs followed, pushing up and slipping across the floor, out of the bathroom, guided by Lithuania’s panted directions: “down the hall, on the right, f-first --nnn-- d-door...”
Lithuania came down the bed with a laughed cry, followed by a similarly elated Russia. He put his hands on Russia’s hips -- shirts, shoes, pants had been lost somewhere along the way, replaced with gentle bruises and flushed skin. Russia’s hands traced along Lithuania’s waistband, amused, before Lithuania gave a tight smile and lifted his pelvis. “D-don’t take your time.”
The band edged down, and Russia slowly, carefully, wrapped his hand around Lithuania’s length. Immediately, Lithuania seized, teeth gritting to contain a moan, muscles locking and bracing against the mattress. Russia’s hand moved in long, low strokes, and it was only pride that kept Lithuania from pleading for a quicker pace, but his resolve broke eventually.
“Mmm, Russia -- I t-told you...” He let out a hot breath and gripped the cold hand. “D-don’t take your -- ahh.”
Russia slid his thumb over the head of Lithuania’s member causing more muscles to jerk him forward. With a small smile, he let the digit rest at the head for a moment, before rubbing it idly. Lithuania’s pelvis strove upwards again, only partially out of his own conscious efforts. “Russia --”
“Be patient, Lithuania.” Russia purred. “I will repay you soon.” Lithuania’s abdomen ached as Russia straddled him, the larger still bearing his bemused, bloodstained smile. He gripped the smaller man’s hips and pulled him forward. Lithuania straighted once they made contact, hard members rubbing with terse friction until Russia reached a saliva-slick hand down to smooth their precum along the skin.
His lungs ached now, as the blond urged him ever closer; he was fighting for each breath, arms wrapped slung around Russia’s neck. They pressed uselessly to Russia’s back, occasionally digging nails into the frozen skin whenever the right nerves brushed. Russia was the one truly supporting Lithuania, pressing their bodies flush against each other as they moved. A hand curled into the small of his back kept each desperate thrust always touching, moving against Russia,. Lithuania could feel Russia’s breath in his hair, down his neck, growing warmer and shorter as they pushed forwards.
Lithuania canted his head so his lips pressed against Russia’s throat. He strained upwards, following the stiff line of Russia’s tendon to his ear, and Russia adjusted himself as Lithuania rose to keep their hips grinding, moving together. In the last few jerks before the climax, before heat and flickers of lights in their eyes, Lithuania murmured into the dipping junction of Russia’s ear and jaw: “Th-thank for choosing m-me...”
And Russia released him to the sheets.
He shivered once before forcing his muscles to respond again. Russia had dropped to his hands and caught himself inches apart from the bed, inches apart from Lithuania. The smaller nation raised himself, thin fingers cupping a strong jaw, and kissed him. Russia pressed forward, opening his mouth to let Lithuania in. The last trickles of warm pleasure were fading but more heat was spreading through them from their searching tongues and wide, inviting lips. Lithuania wound his fingers into Russia’s hair and drew him closer until their chests burned with the want of air.
While Lithuania took short, sharp breaths, Russia leaned in, nuzzling his neck.
“I...I would like some more...if you can give me anything.” He opened his eyes wide, begging silently.
Lithuania smiled -- he imagined it looked something like Russia’s now, judging from the metallic film in his mouth.
“Be careful,” he warned needlessly. Russia always tried to be careful. Whether he was or not depended on the circumstances.
Again, there was short breath before pain, up his jugular and down, twisting into his shoulder. Russia let out muffled gasps with every other pull of blood. He withdrew his teeth, and cleaned the wound, and Lithuania relaxed, but the withdrawal was temporary, and before long Russia returned, nothing if not more fervent. Lithuania could feel muscles seizing again and his body warned him gently You’re being too generous.
Just as Lithuania was starting to see black flecks in his vision, Russia pulled back, chin dripping with bright red. He paused to allow himself a thick swallow before ducking in to lap away the excess seeping out.
“You didn’t have to do this,” he noted. There was question buried somewhere in the statement, optional, ignorable.
“Of course I did.” Lithuania sat up. He rolled his shoulder experimentally, but quickly decided against it. The bite seared. His eyes flickered to Russia’s lips before meeting that gaze. “What could I have told myself if I turned you away?”
For several minutes he stared at the man, unable to speak, as the Lithuanian shuddered in the bed of the small Vilnius apartment.
Russia let his head drop to Lithuania’s collarbone.
“It is good to see you again.”
Really Stupid Extra:
Lithuania was late by the time he woke up -- at some point Russia closed his blinds, and without the sun to shock him awake he had slept through his alarm.
Russia --
The man was in the bathroom again when Lithuania emerged from his bedroom; he was cleaning. Lithuania leaned against the tile wall with a gentle smile.
“I could have done this myself.”
Russia turned.
“Da, but I caused the mess. And it was impolite for me to invite myself in.” He faced Lithuania, still wearing the bloody suit from the night before. But not...
“Russia.” Lithuania knelt next to the nation. “Where’s your scarf?”
The swish of slick cloth against tile slowed, but never stopped. “...My boss does not like me to wear it to meetings. But...” Russia wrung the cloth into the bathtub and paused briefly. “I would very much like to have now.”
Lithuania edged closer, nearly falling in the wet. “And your neck...?”
“Is fine.” Russia shrugged. His left shoulder, the wounded one, hitched up a bit higher than the other, and didn’t completely relax. He paused again. “And yours? After all, you know, last night I just kind of bit you and drank your blood without asking and trashed your bathroom and scared the hell outta you and stuff. Who’s up for pancakes?”
“I’m...good... Thanks...”
“Nyet, I must repay you somehow. After all, you were my dinner last night, so it is only fair that I should make you breakfast, da?”
“...You promise there won’t be any...oh, I don’t know, roofies inside?”
“Well, that is the fun in Russia’s pancakes, da? It is much like Russian Roulette!”
“...I’ll have some coffee. Some instant coffee. That’ll I’ll make myself. Without roofies. Is it just me or does this shirt smell like chloroform...” Lithuania collapsed.
“It is fun time now, da?” And he dragged Liet elsewhere.
Characters/pairing(s): Russia/Lithuania
Rating: R, for sex and descriptions of gore
Gifter: rooibusluv
Giftee: thesikorsky
Prompt: a vampire AU Russia/Lithuania fic
For several minutes he stared at the man, unable to speak, as the Russian shuddered in the bathtub of the small Vilnius apartment. But visits from Russia were rare, so Lithuania’s behavior could be excused.
Finally, Lithuania set his pistol on the blood-flecked title and brushed Russia’s shoulder with a trembling hand. He murmured the name, once, twice...
Again.
The nation stirred.
“Liet?” Russia mumbled. His lips were caked with dark blood. “Liet!” Red-rimmed purple eyes lit up as he uncurled from his shuddering knot. “It is so good to see you, Liet... H-how have you been?”
Lithuania resisted the urge to reach for the handgun behind him. “What are you doing here?”
Russia glanced behind Lithuania and grimaced at the half-dried crimson spread behind the man. “I’m sorry...I...I made a mess.” He gripped the side of the bathtub with a wet hand. “I will help you clean it up, da?”
“Russia.” As stern as the Baltic attempted to make his voice, a slight tremble still remained from his Soviet years when he met those wide wide violets. “What are you doing here.”
“I’m sorry,” Russia repeated. He reached out for Lithuania’s arm. The man jerked away. “Do not be angry, da? I simply...did not know where else to go...I --”
“Please, understand me,” Lithuania cut in. He knit his fingers and rested them on his lap. “I come home from work and find my apartment has been broken into, the door half-ripped off its hinges, the lock broken --”
“I will pay for --”
“Please!”
Russia stared at the porcelain.
“And blood is...everywhere.”
He had taken out the pistol at that point, gone to the his desk with his heart beating in his throat and gripped the gun like a lifeline.
“I follow a trail -- because there is enough blood to be a trail -- to my bathroom and find...you, curled up, unresponsive, and covered in the blood.”
Russia looked like a shame-faced child.
“I don’t want your help or your money. If you won’t tell me what you’re doing here at least tell me one thing.”
The blond flicked his eyes up, unable to fully meet Lithuania’s gaze.
“Is this your blood or someone else’s?”
In the long pause, Lithuania let out a long sigh. I won’t sleep tonight.
“Who, Russ--”
And then Russia gripped the cloth at his shoulder, the blood-soaked suit jacket and dress shirt beneath it, and pushed it all away to reveal the rent edged with frayed skin in his fascinatingly pale neck. Lithuania felt his dinner rise to the back of his throat, but he leaned forward. “Russia, Russia, oh God -- oh God who did this to you? What...what happened? We need to get you to a hospital or you’ll --”
“No, please, no hospitals.” The blond waved the man away. “I have had worse.”
“Worse?” Lithuania echoed incredulously. “Russia, this isn’t the Great Patriotic War! You need help --”
“I need you, Liet.”
A bright flush threatened to overtake Lithuania’s face, but he battled it away with sheer force of will.
“I...I don’t understand...”
Russia leaned forward, gripping the rim of the tub. “I need you.”
This time the flush raged across his cheeks, turning deeper as Russia leaned in and tilted his head. His lips brushed the man’s neck.
“I do not quite understand either, but...I believe it is the proper thing to do in this situation, da?”
A long hot shudder raced up Lithuania’s spine as Russia ran his lips along the ruddy skin.
“I have always wondered how you taste...but it is unfortunate that I only now get to try you.” His damp, cold hands pushed away Lithuania’s collar. His tie smeared through the blood beneath them as Russia discarded it.
Lithuania could hardly breathe -- something had lodged itself under his diaphragm, but at the moment, nothing in his body seemed to be working properly, least of all his lungs...
Especially as Russia breathed in and sank fangs into the Baltic’s neck. With each pull of sweet, warm blood, he drew a scream from Lithuania, whose hands had worked their way into the folds of the former-Soviet’s shirt and held a panicked grip on the fabric.
They found their way to the floor, Russia drinking and drinking. Lithuania jostled and bucked under him. He didn’t mean to throw off the man -- it was ridiculous to even think of such a thing -- he merely wanted to assert himself, make sure he was still able to move, still alive. Each movement brought a low grunt from the Russian, of frustration or something else, Lithuania wasn’t sure.
Russia wanted more more as he pulled out and away, but he knew there was little left to take, just enough for Lithuania’s body to make do. He sucked and laved the wound with his tongue, gently... He had tried so hard to be gentle, but in his fervor he seemed to have torn more than he intended. The bite wasn’t the romantic pricks so affectionately described in fiction; it was a ring, the inverse of Russia’s teeth, and each red splotch had an accompanying torn tail from where he couldn’t help himself.
Lithuania swept his hands through the gory slick, scrambling upright. He dropped his head to Russia’s chest, sobbing panicked breaths and choking every time he smelled the heady, coppery stench that had spread through his apartment. Russia gave a smile and let the man doze, but the rest didn’t last long. Lithuania gave a start and glanced around, finally resting his eyes on Russia’s beaming grin.
“Thank you.”
The former leaned into the following embrace, too dizzy and lost to do much all. Russia smoothed down his meal’s dripping wet hair and murmured into an unmarred section of skin, “You are so delicious, Liet.”
All Lithuania could sense was blood, wet and cloying and sickly sweet. It pervaded everything so completely it took several moments for him to notice Russia was generously dotting his skin with light kisses. He hummed something old and held Lithuania close.
“Why did you need me?”
Save for the occasional mumble of street traffic, it was quiet.
“After...I was...attacked...all I could...think of...was...you,” was the halting reply interrupted by the brush of lips across Lithuania’s face. “I knew...I needed to eat...and I could think of...no one...but my Liet.”
Lithuania untangled his hand from Russia’s clothing with only mild reluctance and cupped the back of the nation’s neck, causing the latter to meet his eyes, and in a moment, his lips.
Blood, Lithuania remembered, tasted significantly better than it smelled. But if he truly tried to push past that metallic tang, he could recognize Russia’s sapor: part tobacco, part vodka, part thick ambiguous tastes from this or that folk food. He ran his tongue around the inside of the man’s mouth, searching for something past his own lingering remnants.
Before long, their hands were in motion, not content to politely curl around each other’s curves. The fingers dipped and traced, curious, before peeling away the damp clothing, and their legs followed, pushing up and slipping across the floor, out of the bathroom, guided by Lithuania’s panted directions: “down the hall, on the right, f-first --nnn-- d-door...”
Lithuania came down the bed with a laughed cry, followed by a similarly elated Russia. He put his hands on Russia’s hips -- shirts, shoes, pants had been lost somewhere along the way, replaced with gentle bruises and flushed skin. Russia’s hands traced along Lithuania’s waistband, amused, before Lithuania gave a tight smile and lifted his pelvis. “D-don’t take your time.”
The band edged down, and Russia slowly, carefully, wrapped his hand around Lithuania’s length. Immediately, Lithuania seized, teeth gritting to contain a moan, muscles locking and bracing against the mattress. Russia’s hand moved in long, low strokes, and it was only pride that kept Lithuania from pleading for a quicker pace, but his resolve broke eventually.
“Mmm, Russia -- I t-told you...” He let out a hot breath and gripped the cold hand. “D-don’t take your -- ahh.”
Russia slid his thumb over the head of Lithuania’s member causing more muscles to jerk him forward. With a small smile, he let the digit rest at the head for a moment, before rubbing it idly. Lithuania’s pelvis strove upwards again, only partially out of his own conscious efforts. “Russia --”
“Be patient, Lithuania.” Russia purred. “I will repay you soon.” Lithuania’s abdomen ached as Russia straddled him, the larger still bearing his bemused, bloodstained smile. He gripped the smaller man’s hips and pulled him forward. Lithuania straighted once they made contact, hard members rubbing with terse friction until Russia reached a saliva-slick hand down to smooth their precum along the skin.
His lungs ached now, as the blond urged him ever closer; he was fighting for each breath, arms wrapped slung around Russia’s neck. They pressed uselessly to Russia’s back, occasionally digging nails into the frozen skin whenever the right nerves brushed. Russia was the one truly supporting Lithuania, pressing their bodies flush against each other as they moved. A hand curled into the small of his back kept each desperate thrust always touching, moving against Russia,. Lithuania could feel Russia’s breath in his hair, down his neck, growing warmer and shorter as they pushed forwards.
Lithuania canted his head so his lips pressed against Russia’s throat. He strained upwards, following the stiff line of Russia’s tendon to his ear, and Russia adjusted himself as Lithuania rose to keep their hips grinding, moving together. In the last few jerks before the climax, before heat and flickers of lights in their eyes, Lithuania murmured into the dipping junction of Russia’s ear and jaw: “Th-thank for choosing m-me...”
And Russia released him to the sheets.
He shivered once before forcing his muscles to respond again. Russia had dropped to his hands and caught himself inches apart from the bed, inches apart from Lithuania. The smaller nation raised himself, thin fingers cupping a strong jaw, and kissed him. Russia pressed forward, opening his mouth to let Lithuania in. The last trickles of warm pleasure were fading but more heat was spreading through them from their searching tongues and wide, inviting lips. Lithuania wound his fingers into Russia’s hair and drew him closer until their chests burned with the want of air.
While Lithuania took short, sharp breaths, Russia leaned in, nuzzling his neck.
“I...I would like some more...if you can give me anything.” He opened his eyes wide, begging silently.
Lithuania smiled -- he imagined it looked something like Russia’s now, judging from the metallic film in his mouth.
“Be careful,” he warned needlessly. Russia always tried to be careful. Whether he was or not depended on the circumstances.
Again, there was short breath before pain, up his jugular and down, twisting into his shoulder. Russia let out muffled gasps with every other pull of blood. He withdrew his teeth, and cleaned the wound, and Lithuania relaxed, but the withdrawal was temporary, and before long Russia returned, nothing if not more fervent. Lithuania could feel muscles seizing again and his body warned him gently You’re being too generous.
Just as Lithuania was starting to see black flecks in his vision, Russia pulled back, chin dripping with bright red. He paused to allow himself a thick swallow before ducking in to lap away the excess seeping out.
“You didn’t have to do this,” he noted. There was question buried somewhere in the statement, optional, ignorable.
“Of course I did.” Lithuania sat up. He rolled his shoulder experimentally, but quickly decided against it. The bite seared. His eyes flickered to Russia’s lips before meeting that gaze. “What could I have told myself if I turned you away?”
For several minutes he stared at the man, unable to speak, as the Lithuanian shuddered in the bed of the small Vilnius apartment.
Russia let his head drop to Lithuania’s collarbone.
“It is good to see you again.”
Really Stupid Extra:
Lithuania was late by the time he woke up -- at some point Russia closed his blinds, and without the sun to shock him awake he had slept through his alarm.
Russia --
The man was in the bathroom again when Lithuania emerged from his bedroom; he was cleaning. Lithuania leaned against the tile wall with a gentle smile.
“I could have done this myself.”
Russia turned.
“Da, but I caused the mess. And it was impolite for me to invite myself in.” He faced Lithuania, still wearing the bloody suit from the night before. But not...
“Russia.” Lithuania knelt next to the nation. “Where’s your scarf?”
The swish of slick cloth against tile slowed, but never stopped. “...My boss does not like me to wear it to meetings. But...” Russia wrung the cloth into the bathtub and paused briefly. “I would very much like to have now.”
Lithuania edged closer, nearly falling in the wet. “And your neck...?”
“Is fine.” Russia shrugged. His left shoulder, the wounded one, hitched up a bit higher than the other, and didn’t completely relax. He paused again. “And yours? After all, you know, last night I just kind of bit you and drank your blood without asking and trashed your bathroom and scared the hell outta you and stuff. Who’s up for pancakes?”
“I’m...good... Thanks...”
“Nyet, I must repay you somehow. After all, you were my dinner last night, so it is only fair that I should make you breakfast, da?”
“...You promise there won’t be any...oh, I don’t know, roofies inside?”
“Well, that is the fun in Russia’s pancakes, da? It is much like Russian Roulette!”
“...I’ll have some coffee. Some instant coffee. That’ll I’ll make myself. Without roofies. Is it just me or does this shirt smell like chloroform...” Lithuania collapsed.
“It is fun time now, da?” And he dragged Liet elsewhere.