A lesson in Russian-German Relations 4/?
anonymous
June 6 2010, 16:51:02 UTC
Speaking of Russian customs ... That also seemed to include a welcome where vodka was served, hence why Ludwig was feeling just a little bit lightheaded. It did not help that his boss had his glass refilled twice, before they got to talk about work. Albeit he usually was good at holding his liquor, Ivan’s national drink got to him very quickly.
Stop acting so paranoid, he berated himself. He’s never done anything to you before. Why would he change his mind now? Plus, our bosses are close friends.
To end the first day, a trip to the opera had been planned; the only thing he’d truly been looking forward to. Ludwig loved the opera, and the Mariinsky Theatre was world famous. It was the first time he got to visit it, too. And, maybe, just maybe, it would help him forget about his fixation on Russia’s possible motives.
Seated behind Putin and Schröder as well as their respective wives, he was out of sight, and, hopefully, out of mind of everyone else for the time being. Once the lights had been dimmed, Ludwig relaxed in his chair, a quiet sigh coming past his lips. The darkness surrounding him, the quiet replacing previous chitchat of the other visitors; it made him feel a tad safer.
He did lift a brow when he heard the first few notes, however. This opera; Bavaria had introduced him to it as a young teenager. He remembered having watched its first performance ever, and how stunned he had been by it. Completely blown away. Thus, his love for this particular composer had been born. A love which had been tainted decades later.
Suddenly, something light, almost as light as a breeze, brushed the back of his head. Flinching hard, he turned round, saw Russia gliding into the seat next to him with no sounds whatsoever.
Smiling as kindly as ever, Ivan leant closer, his lips slightly touching the shell of his ear.
“I do apologise for being so late, Ludwig. It lies not in my nature to let guests wait, but quite important matters demanded my presence elsewhere.” Additionally, he placed his hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently. “Oh, and I sincerely hope you are pleased by my choice for tonight’s performance. Wagner is one of your favourites, yes? I also convinced my boss we use the original version. It does sound so much more powerful in your tongue.”
Politeness required him to nod, but no words would leave his mouth. And there was an odd tingling forming where Braginski had touched him. The voice he used, his accent, caused another strange feeling to pool in his stomach. He couldn’t pinpoint it, but it made him remember his dreams from last night.
No, it hadn’t been anything sexual per se. Unless one counted weird, inexplicably joyous feelings while being stuck in a conference room decorated with a giant Flag of the Soviet Union where Russia, dressed in a KGB general’s uniform, was giving a speech in his native language. A dream that had him wake up with a hard-on not quite of the nature every man experienced in the morning.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ivan turning his attention to the stage. Why exactly this furthered his nerviness, he couldn’t tell. Whatever game he was playing with him, he was a true master at it.
Germany didn’t like it. He never had been one to easily succumb to another’s mindgames.
Halfway through the third scene, Ludwig had managed to calm down somewhat. The music did have a soothing effect on his agitated mind, and even after more than a century, this opera still filled him with joy. Or maybe it was due to the dramatic, opulent melodies which had his own emotional turmoil pale beside them.
“All mythologies have some truth to them, correct? Do tell, was there ever any Rhine gold, Ludwig?” Ivan suddenly whispered to him, the hand previously on his shoulder now resting on his knee. “Such a ring, it would be a powerful accessory --- as would be that helmet.”
Ludwig instantly tensed up.
“It’s just a --- story.” He almost hissed, attempting to remove that hand, but instead just putting his own over it. Any abrupt movements, and someone might notice. “There are no magic rings!”
“How sad.”
Oddly enough, Ivan sounded genuinely disappointed.
A lesson in Russian-German Relations 5/?
anonymous
June 6 2010, 16:51:55 UTC
“Well, you wouldn’t want it anyway. You’d have to renounce ---,” Ludwig immediately halted, turned away from him and propped his chin on his hand. “... love.”
Ivan took this as a chance to move his own hand further up. Ludwig swore he could feel the other’s amusement at his uncharacteristical hesitation to say one stupid word. And yet Russia passed on to another, completely unrelated question.
“Wagner worked on this for more than a quarter of a century, correct?”
The hand came to a halt once more, before fingertips began to softly knead his thigh. Russia’s accented voice, a barely audible whisper still, rumbled through him, adding to the unwelcome warmth coursing through him.
“Yes, he did. Not continuously so, though ---. Stop that, Braginski!”
Luckily for him, the music was loud enough so that their bosses wouldn’t hear them talk. The mere thought of Schröder, or worse even; Putin, deciding to turn around now was enough to have him on edge.
“That is indeed impressive.” Again, Ivan stopped his motions. “I can see why Hitler worshipped him so.”
Hearing that name, Germany froze. Did he have to bring him up? Now he was certain that all of Russia’s actions had been on purpose. Now he had a reason to honestly feel uneasy around this nation.
However, the why still remained a mystery to him.
“What has happened to those great, talented composers coming from your lands, Ludwig? Nowadays your children produce such funny songs like “Moskau”. While those are certainly amusing, I cannot help but wonder ---.”
A chiding note in his otherwise soft voice, Russia cocked his head. Additionally, he poked his cheek with his index finger.
“That was thirty years ago! --- And would you please cut that out!”
The nation looked as if he did his hardest not to crack up. To make things worse, Putin’s wife turned around right then. Ludwig thought his heart was about to burst out of his chest. To make things worse, Ivan did not remove his hand, giving the woman a friendly nod instead.
Damn you to hell, Braginski!, he thought, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.
Ludwig felt trapped like that dwarf in Wagner’s tetralogy who’d just been captured. Gladly, Mrs Putin didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. Yet it probably was what made Russia continue.
As the end of the third scene approached, his warm palm, soft and yet strong, glided closer to his hip, its destination obvious.
What had been his brother’s words? About as kinky as you allegedly are ... Well, Germany did have to admit that Russia had quite a filthy mind, considering what he did, and where of all places!
The most shocking, though, was the fact that, in his joking ways, Gilbert had been right about Ivan’s motives. Part of him wished it had been something else as it probably would’ve been easier to deal with, whilst another part couldn’t deny how very appealing the idea itself was. That was to say, Ludwig would have been more appreciative of it, if their roles had been reversed.
Shooting him another glare, once he began palming him through his trousers, Germany gnashed his teeth and decided to reciprocate. Maybe then Russia would understand how precarious a game his was; in public. Enough was enough! He was a man, not some foolish, inexperienced teenaged boy. And he would not let himself be played like one.
“Tut-tut, Ludwig ...,” were Ivan’s words, who took a hold of that straying hand whereas keeping up with his own treatment. “Enjoy the opera, yes?”
The nation didn’t seem to be bothered in the least by his failed attempt to get back at him, sounded as if he was reprehending an unruly child for trying to nick a treat for adults only.
Gently, his fingers danced over his soon hardening flesh. Playfully teasing him, before they became more bold and stronger in their caress, only to turn light and almost hesitant again. Mimicking the music’s ups and downs.
It didn’t take him long to have Germany on the verge of squirming, who couldn’t quite decide why he wasn’t putting a stop to this. Was it fear of being caught, or was it because not only his body started to seriously enjoy what was being done to him.
A lesson in Russian-German Relations 6/?
anonymous
June 6 2010, 16:53:05 UTC
Playing him like an instrument; skilled and masterfully indeed. Ivan understood music very well, having quite the number of famous and important composers to list. Many of which Ludwig held deep admiration for.
In his thoughts, he cursed Wagner, for the fourth scene was not only the longest, but also contained quite a few slower and quiet passages. And he just knew that Russia was going to draw this out till the last note had been played.
Longing for the finale, to be released in more than one way, Ludwig bit his hand, eyes squeezed shut tightly as he dug his fingers into the armrest. He’d never been one to be vocal when aroused, but right now it was incredibly hard to keep quiet. The constant fear of someone noticing, thus being forced to keep silent made something so simple as a handjob a lot more intense.
The proper and rational part of his took its last stand some ten minutes before the scene ended, dying down for good after a rather sad attempt to break free from the lust inflicted on him against his will. Was recounting budgeted revenues of 2000 really the best he could come up with? No wonder it didn’t work.
The music.That incredible feeling. Those bombastic sounds and melodies, rushing through his whole body and mixing with the ecstacy already there. One reached the finish, the other didn’t. A split second before bliss would’ve replaced doubt at last that hand withdrew, and Russia stood to applaud the opera singers and orchestra.
Germany couldn’t believe it. Breathing heavily, he held onto the armrest, staring at the older nation.
Denied. Just like that. Had he strung him along just for fun?! Had that been his motive? Oh please ... Disbelief quickly got erased by an emotion as strong as the lust still locked inside of him.
“I do hope you enjoyed the performance, Ludwig~,” Ivan then said, ripping him out of his sinister musings.
“You ...!” I’m not some toy you can play around with as you plase, you asshole!, he thought angrily. You are going to regret this! I am not my brother!
“Or not?”
Everybody else around them already made to leave, but Germany didn’t. Partly for reasons he’d rather not be known to the world.
“Is something wrong?”
Ivan himself was a master at expressions unreadable. If Ludwig hadn’t been the victim of his stupid, so not funny joke, he probably wouldn’t have noticed anything out of the ordinary. That voice. How did he manage to make it sound so innocent?
“You know damn well what’s wrong, Braginski!” He pressed.
“They say conjuring up bad memories helps little misfortunes such as this to go away.”
The urge to ram his fist through Russia’s face was immense, almost as bad as his need to come. Was that all he had to say to him? It would’ve been less infuriating, if he’d just laughed at him.
“Do you have trouble thinking of anything of the sort? Let’s see ... Wasn’t Stalingrad pretty bad for you?”
Oh, he did not just go there, did he?!
For a moment, he shot him the nastiest, most hateful glare he could muster, taking a deep breath and then closing his eyes, lest he didn’t kill Braginski right then and there. Counting to ten, he released his hold on the armrest and stood.
“I would like to retreat to my hotel room now.”
Ludwig had not used a voice this hostile in over sixty years.
He’d not exchange another word with Russia on their way to said hotel. He didn’t do so much as look at him. On the outside, Ludwig appeared distant, cold even, but on the inside he was boiling with rage hotter than a thousand suns combined.
It took a lot out of him to come down from that rage. And even after he’d managed, he kept sitting on his bed for yet another hour; completely unmoving.
Things his brother told him on a constant basis flared up in his mind. How people liked to play jokes on him in particular. Ludwig knew he took many things far too seriously. He also knew he really should loosen up from time to time. Such was easier said than done, of course.
A lesson in Russian-German Relations 7/?
anonymous
June 6 2010, 16:54:09 UTC
He’d got used to Kraut still being one of his nicknames, and references to British comedy didn’t quite phase him any longer either. Remarks about his supposedly bad cooking were mostly ignored just as well as comments on his people’s lack of sexual prowess. And the last damn cuckoo clock sent his way ended in the dustbin without further ado.
Tonight was different, though. No one ever had tested his patience to such a degree before. Ivan had pushed all his buttons simultaneously. Furthermore, he still couldn’t tell if he’d been joking or not.
“Not bad ... My brother could learn a thing or two from you, Braginski,” he muttered into the emptiness of his hotel room
Yes, he was officially impressed by Russia’s skills, as questionable they might be.
Subtle, but powerful. Very effective indeed.
Part of him still wanted to bash the nation’s skull in, but why not go for something more subtle instead? Germany’s reputation when it came to certain tastes wasn’t so far from the truth either. Even though he’d got it for the wrong reasons, and thanks to the crazy blabbering of a panicked North Italy in captivity way back when.
It was high time he returned some of the pleasantries the others so willingly handed out to him anyway. After what he’d put him through tonight, starting with Russia seemed like a good idea.
Two could play this game, in his opinion.
~
Aside from a young and very drunk couple which almost bumped into him, Ludwig found the hallways abandoned. Only a few minutes later he stood in front of Russia’s hotel room. Taking a deep breath, he knocked firmer than intended.
He may have got his rage under control, but there was something else. Remnants of the lust which had been interrupted so abruptly, and something which felt oddly similar to anticipation.
Bleib ruhig, he muttered to himself.
When Ivan finally answered the door, he did so in nothing but a t-shirt and boxershorts. The fact he’d probably woken him made him smile a little on the inside.
“Ludwig? What a surprise! What can I do for you at such a late hour?”
Germany let his eyes wander across his chest and below for a second, making sure Russia would notice, before he looked up at him.
“Oh, I must’ve forgotten that you’re two hours ahead of me, Braginski. It explains why I couldn’t seem to find any sleep.”
Without waiting for the other’s reply, Ludwig pushed past him and switched the lights on. Interesting. He’d got the better suite. Ivan apparently did care a lot about his guests’ comforts, and not just for show.
Leaning against the sideboard, he took great pleasure in watching the other nation trying to get used to the brighness flooding the room. However, even like this, in sleeping clothes and with his hair dishevelled, he still managed to come off as quite impressive. Ludwig knew he had to play his cards well, if he wanted to come out as the victor. Russia’s height alone made him a tough target for the kind of game he had in mind.
“I was thinking about this evening’s performance, Braginski. In fact, I’m still thinking about it,” here he paused, observing him for a reaction.
Russia merely yawned and waited for him to go on. He either did not get what he was referring to, or he was very good at hiding his surprise. Remembering that little game he’d played with him, it most likely was the latter. It was a bit unsettling, but he wouldn’t let it get in his ways.
“Why don’t we have a chat, Ivan?” Ludwig continued, pointing at the armchairs not far from the window. “Have a seat.”
Russia quirked a brow at being addressed with his given name. Something Germany had never done before. Tactics, he knew how to use them, too. Mostly from his days as the Third Reich. Something good must’ve come out of that time after all. Part of him instantly berated himself for thinking in such lanes, but he pushed that nagging voice aside quickly.
“Would you care for a drink? I know I could go for a beer ---.”
If one kept in mind how important it was for Russia to be a good host, it should make him feel uncomfortable or at least awkward to have his guest taking the lead in this department. Though he denied a drink, he sat down without any further ado.
A lesson in Russian-German Relations 8/?
anonymous
June 6 2010, 16:54:58 UTC
Turning his back to him, Ludwig opened the mini-bar to take out a bottle of what looked like beer. He’d never had Russian beer before, but for the sake of his own mindgame, he would have to go along with it, despite being extremely picky about beer.
“Is this good?”
“Ah, I would suggest you go for the black can. Baltika Krepkoe. It is my favourite, and I do recommend it to a beer connoisseur such as you.”
Of course, he knew that name, thus he ignored the comment on his seeming ignorance of one of Europe’s biggest breweries. He simply couldn’t read Kyrillic. And though he didn’t quite like the tone in Russia’s voice -it was far too sweet for his tastes- Ludwig reached for said can. It probably had vodka in it, but it wasn’t as if he had planned to chitchat over a beer anyway.
“Thank you for the suggestion. I haven’t had the chance to try this one before.”
Loosening his tie, he made his way over to Ivan at last. Yet he still didn’t sit down, merely put the can on the coffee table. There was a moment their eyes met, neither of them looking away.
Just a moment of distraction was all Ludwig needed, so he leant forward and popped the lid open, can tipped slightly in the older nation’s direction. It worked better than expected. A small shake of the drink while he’d had his back turned to Ivan, and the end result was a cold, foamy shower for his host.
Russia barely flinched, but his surprise definitely was showing this time. Such a childish action was unheard of when it came to Germany after all.
“Oh mein Gott, this is awkward! I’m so sorry. Here, let me help you.”
White lies, no? Pulling off the tie completely, Ludwig used it to wipe off beer stains covering the other’s face. And while he put on the demeanor of his usual, concerned and apologetic self, he had quite the trouble with keeping his laughter from breaking free. Russia’s expression was simply priceless.
He then let his tie slither down Ivan’s neck, edging closer and replacing finest silk with the tip of his tongue to remove what stains were left. Tasted quite a bit stronger than the stouts his breweries produced, he noticed. Germany had to admit, if grudgingly so, that it wasn’t all that bad either.
“Lyudya ... what are you doing?”
Lyudya? Was that an insult or a nickname? The nation hadn’t used it on him before. Ludwig decided he’d disregard it for now, tongue gliding over the outlines of Ivan’s mouth. According to his brother, this one was a good lay. By now, he really was not adverse to the idea anymore. And if he was honest with himself, Gilbert had been right all along.
“Oh, what does it look like? I’m simply cleaning up my mess, ... Vanya.”
He could do the nickname thing, too. The shadow of a smirk played around his lips and he cupped the back of Russia’s head, fingers combing through its tousled strands. Both ends of his tie were hanging down Ivan’s chest now. Looping them around his free hand, Ludwig pulled him closer. Carefully. Slowly. He wouldn’t want him to pick up on his true intent too quickly.
Soft lips beneath his twisted into a smirk of their own, but Germany didn’t waste a thought on it. Russia kept still, didn’t show any signs of being alerted. His breath was even and his hands placed on the armrest in a relaxed fashion.
“Not bad ...,” he whispered, lapping up a drop of beer pearling on his bottom lip. “For a beer not German, that is.”
Ivan chuckled: “I’m afraid I cannot say the same about German vodka, comrade.”
Oh, now that was a word he’d not heard in a long time. Fully pressing his mouth on Russia’s, his fingertips dug into his scalp and he pulled more strongly on the tie. An answer to his taunt. And yet the older nation remained unmoving, like a marble statue, not reacting in any way.
Gently gnawing at the tender skin of his lips, Ludwig tried to coax them open, giving them a lick while tightening his hold on the fabric. When he still got no response, he tried a more aggressive approach, pushing him back into the armchair and attacking his mouth with nips rapidly becoming more vicious.
“Lyudya, let me ask you again. What do you think you’re doing?”
A lesson in Russian-German Relations 9/?
anonymous
June 6 2010, 16:56:05 UTC
Somehow, Ivan’s voice sounded deeper this time, his accent thicker as well. It caused his hair to stand on edge, reminding him of the dream he’d had. Ludwig grinned, yanking at the tie and seating himself on his lap.
“You know, my brother would say that that is a question beyond stupid, Ivan ---”
“Your brother, da?”
Was that a giggle? His attitude was becoming just the tiniest bit of frustrating. Yet when he moved closer, Ludwig noticed that his actions hadn’t been wasted on him.
“You can say what you want about Gilbert, but he does have his moments.”
Pushing against the obvious poking through crimson boxers, Germany left bitemarks along his jawline. He would repay him. He would reduce Russia to a wanton heap of lust, just as he’d done with him.
“Oh, dorogusha ...,” his counterpart cooed. “No one knows that better than I do ---.”
Again, there was this odd churning in his stomach, thus his hold turned almost choking now. Even in this position, Russia still acted unphased by anything he said or did. Running a hand down his chest, he rammed his fingers into the other’s side. Soft tissue that covered surprisingly firm muscles, bruising in his tight grip now. Apparently, he wasn’t as much out of shape as his outer appearance made people believe.
“Is that so?”
Finally, Ivan stiffened underneath him, if only for a split second. Feeling victorious, Ludwig lifted his head, just to see him smile. That far-too-sweet, way-too-innocent-to-be-real smile so typical for this nation. A shiver ran down his back, and for a second there he had no idea how to proceed.
The distraction needed. Suddenly, Russia lunged forward, grabbed him by the neck. Damn, he knew how to move fast. Something he’d not expected of him.
“I doubt you came here to discuss your brother, Lyudya ---.”
Whispers washing over his lips, sending more shivers through him. Another rushed movement sent the beer can toppling over and creating a sticky mess on the rug as Russia pushed them out of the chair using all his weight.
Instantly, an arm wrapped itself around his back, to keep him from falling over, or maybe trapping him, while the other sauntered along his waistline, before leaving bruises mirroring the ones he’d inflicted on him.
“Braginski ...!”
What had been impossible for him to accomplish, Russia managed without even having to try. Any protests were prohibited from entering the world by a powerful kiss sealing his lips shut. Just as masterfully as the touches that had made him squirm earlier, these kisses made his knees buckle quite soon.
The ball definitely was back in Ivan’s court, so to speak, and it took him another few seconds to actually react to this turn of events. Grabbing onto his broad upper arms, head tilted upward slightly, Ludwig answered him likewise, but not without being pushed back further.
Were these the famous Russian customs Gilbert had mentioned? His head was swimming, and not just because he hit it when bumping into the wall. Ludwig’s own hands seemed to not know where to go or what to touch, for his body decided it liked this treatment too much to care about his goals. Ivan quickly freed his shirt from all its buttons then bouncing off the floor.
Too much friction made him lose control over the noises he’d have kept in otherwise, his body moving on its own and against the other for more.
“The tie --- it has a nice touch, dorogusha.”
And so the tie found its way around his wrists, securing them behind his back with practiced moves. Nothing he could’ve done about it. Russia outdid him in terms of strength. Those few rolls of flab making his stomach so soft to one’s touch certainly had given him a wrong impression.
Dorogusha. The second time he’d called him that. Insult, petname or nickname? He really had to pick up the other’s language. Pushing against him, he sought more kisses. For a little while, Russia seemed inclined to play along with this desire of his, and again he lost himself in the feel of his hot tongue exploring his mouth.
A lesson in Russian-German Relations 10/?
anonymous
June 6 2010, 16:57:04 UTC
Even though he was by now means small, Germany felt rather tiny in the other’s embrace. Fingers marked his skin a flaming colour, arms strong enough to actually hold him in place. This was a new to him. None of his prior playmates had managed to pin him against the wall. Unfamiliar, but pleasant at the same time. And with his hands bound, he had no way but to give himself to the one nation he couldn’t read.
It wasn’t as if he’d underestimated him. Far from it. Russia just had a way to surprise him over and over again.
“What cute sounds you make ---.”
Ivan’s voice set off more of the heat renewing itself. Powerful hands roamed over his upper body, only allowing him little space to move. Playing with him once more, as he’d done hours ago, he now wouldn’t even grant him the pleasure of grinding into him.
Verflucht noch mal, hör auf mich so hinzuhalten!
“Did you just curse me, Lyudya?”
Did he say that out loud?
Ludwig blinked, mouth half open. He wanted to counter, but Russia simply turned him round and made him face the wall. It would’ve been futile to argue with him anyway, for he understood German well enough.
“You young ones lack patience,” Ivan purred in his ear, before biting down on its shell. “Although, considering it’s you, it’s almost adorable again.”
Curse him indeed. But all he could do was let out a low moan when those teeth sank into his neck. Shoving him forward and into the wall, he made sure Ludwig would have to wear a scarf of his own for days to come, lest others saw just what he’d been up to in St. Petersburg.
By now, Germany was trembling with need, his body twitching when Russia’s fingertips brushed his hard length seemingly by accident. He stood very close to him, pressed against his back. Ludwig could feel that he desired this just as much. Heat of his body jumping over to his and amplifying the lust scorching his senses.
How Ivan still could act so calm was beyond him. Rubbing up against him as well as the cold surface of the wall, Ludwig was determined to get things going for real. It wasn’t like him to be aroused this quickly nor act as wantonly, but he’d been pushed to the edge earlier already.
Pressing his forehead against the wall, he closed his eyes. All he could think about were those hands, and how they’d finally touch him again. Wrapped around his dripping cock, this time hopefully without any cloth in between.
“Do it already!”
Sounds of his belt and zipper being undone were the sweetest he’d ever heard, the volume of his moans turning up when he got what he needed the most at last. Steady and firm, up and down. Still too slow, but it was a start, and more than he’d got so far.
“You didn’t even come prepared ...”
Ivan’s other hand felt his pockets while he laved the bruised spot on his neck with his tongue, before moving on to create its twin. Ludwig’s face fell at those words. How could he have forgotten?
“I believed you of all people would be more organised than this.”
Hushed words, barely audible over his moans. However, the amusement dripping from them couldn’t have been more clear. Moving to let his trousers fall around his ankles, one hand abandoned him.
“Be glad I am more considerate than you and your horny mind, Ludwig.”
Something was off about this statement, but he couldn’t tell what. Shortlived confusion, swept away when he saw Russia holding up lubrication and a condom. Pleasant shudders ran through him, his breath hitching when cold stickiness dropped on his buttocks and trickled down his crack.
Ivan took his time spreading the oil, one arm around his waist. Again, he had to resort to seeking pleasure from the coarse surface of the wall. A mixture of groans and whines filled the room, and he welcomed the finger diving into his tight depths with a heated growl. There was a gentleness about Russia’s touches that almost seemed unnatural. So very contrary to the teeth leaving more imprints on the nape of his neck.
A lesson in Russian-German Relations 11/11
anonymous
June 6 2010, 16:58:12 UTC
Sweat beaded on his brows, his whole form shaking when he got stretched farther and, one by one, two more fingers entered him. Thoughts about revenge for what had been done to him were nonexistent at this point, and he didn’t care about mindgames any longer. Anticipation had his innermost quake that short moment where Russia withdrew.
Ivan whispered something into his ear he didn’t understand. It sounded appreciative, dirty and also completely honest. Ludwig wondered if he even noticed he did it in Russian. The bonds around his wrists were loosened, glided to the floor with the ghost of a caress along his legs. Ludwig immediately reached out for him, pulling him closer and pushing down on his arousal sliding between his buttocks.
One hand cupped his chin, and Russia savoured the feeling of his heat wrapping itself around him. Oh so slowly. More foreign words and his tongue danced over abused flesh. Germany couldn’t keep himself together anymore, rotating his hips and squeezing his hard cock with his muscles.
For the first time, he heard the other nation make a lustful noise. Yet Ivan still commanded their pace. Soon, though, a hand lay on his hip, heavy and bruising again, to absorb some of the force behind his thrusts gradually rising. Rough and deep, they left their marks on his insides as well.
Ludwig knew it wouldn’t take long, but for now it seemed like the most blissful eternity. Blazing ecstacy filled every cell of his body, made him forget everything else around him. He felt weightless in that crushingly tight embrace, fingernails leaving scratches on the wallpaper in his attempts to keep standing. Only when his lust began to peak, Ivan touched his member again, pumping him hard until he’d spill himself violently.
Creating red streaks on his back to make Germany tumble and fall apart underneath him, Russia let go of himself as well, a soundless moan muffled against the back of the younger one’s head.
Cheek pressed against the wall now sticky with his essence, Ludwig slumped down in Ivan’s arms, giving up his last of restraints by trusting in the other’s strength to keep him from going down.
A long time ago, propaganda made him think Russia was a backwards nation to be conquered and ruled. Then Russia’d been hidden behind an invisible yet impenetrable curtain, and everybody, not just Germany, had believed him to be some sort of monster for almost half a century. Propaganda again. These days he saw him as someone who took work seriously, striving to improve ever more. And yet there was that sense of humour Ludwig had missed completely, until a few weeks ago.
Learning that they indeed did share certain tastes ... It was perhaps the biggest surprise out of all.
Germany knew one thing. He knew nothing, absolutely nothing about this nation’s character. Facts and history were just that. They did not tell him anything else.
Damp lips glided over his neck as he panted heavily, speaking words that made him realise whose game they’d been playing all along.
“My performance, dorogusha. You never told me what you thought about it. Did it please you?”
~
Contentment showed on his features while he watched him sleep. He looked so different like this, his face relaxed and peaceful, void of that usual stoic and harsh expression.
One leg had found its way between his, the only physical contact they’d shared in bed.
Ivan decided he liked this enough to want to repeat it.
Admiring the black and red marks he’d left on the young one’s body, he reached out and traced one of the bigger welts on his back. Ludwig stirred slightly in his sleep, mumbling something incomprehensible. But instead of shying away, he edged closer to the source of warmth next to him.
Ivan smiled.
Yes, he was going to keep this one. What had started out as a means of entertaining himself might have just become a little more fun than expected.
A lesson in Russian-German Relations NOTES
anonymous
June 6 2010, 16:58:57 UTC
- The goods turnover of 2000 between Russia and Germany was comparable to the entire goods turnover between the Soviet Union and West/East Germany. Russia regards Germany as its leading European partner, and is an important trading partner for Germany. Small tidbit: German is in a firm second place (behind English) at Russian schools. Russian used to be number one in the GDR (hence why Gilbert understands Ivan very well whereas Ludwig’s Russian probably is limited to a very few words only).
- a bottle of Rodnik Gold costs about $500. It’s the most expensive vodka out there. Baltika Breweries is Europe’s second biggest brewery. Germans are very proud of their beer, just like Danes and Belgians, and oftentimes don’t want to try anything else. Here in Germany, people even like to fight about what region produces the better beer. Beer=serious business for true Germans! *lol* I must be a fraud, cause I like Danish beer, too.
- The programme for the first meet-up of the St. Petersburg Dialogue included a trip to the opera, and they did perform the Rheingold by Wagner, in German.
- Song Ivan was humming: ”Moskau“ by Dschingis Khan, from 1970 (by a West German songwriter, mind you. This is not some Soviet propaganda drinking song). Parts of the lyrics that do indeed sound as if the songwriter had a giant boner for like a love confession to Russia:
Foreig and mysterious […] Cold as ice […] But those who truly know you they know, a fire is burning so hot inside of you […] Russia is a beautiful country […] Your soul is so big […] Those who know your soul They know, [your] love is burning as hot as a blaze
ACHTUNG!, this is potentially silly music (probably more so for my fellow Germans). In my opinion, it’s so bad it’s funny again. No, we will NOT go into their costumes!
- Vladimir Putin and the former chancellor of Germany, Gerhard Schröder, always have been on very good terms, and are close friends outside of work, too.
- The debut performance of Wagner’s Rheingold was in 1869, in Munich, Bavaria.
- Ludwig who was made to believe that Russia was backwards nation: Nazi propaganda later on said Russians, or Slavs in general, were subhuman. There even were soldier songs about how backwards Russia was, and how much soldiers hated having to go there.
- Hidden behind an invisible curtain: reference to the Iron Curtain. I guess I don’t have to go into Cold War propaganda.
random German: - Brüderlein=little brother (Brüderlein is a diminutive for brother) - Bleib ruhig: Stay calm - Verdammt noch mal, hör auf mich so hinzuhalten: Damnit, stop stringing me along like this.
random Russian: - Lyudya is the diminutive for Ludwig, like Vanya is for Ivan - Dorogusha: deary (of course, Ivan uses this as an innocent taunt) (Thanks for the help, Alikurai. ♥)
Re: A lesson in Russian-German Relations NOTES
anonymous
June 6 2010, 18:29:30 UTC
omg writer!anon this was perfect. russia was appropriately mind-controlling. i hate it when people just write him as RAEPTRUCK since, well, he's russia. he's a little more subtle than that. the sex was so hot unf unf also, not gonna lie. moskau reference made my week. the plot, the dialogue--well. i am supremely happy now.
Re: A lesson in Russian-German Relations NOTES
anonymous
June 6 2010, 20:06:31 UTC
THIS FILL IS SO FUCKING PERFECT I DON'T EVEN-
Ok, that was really really REALLY awesome. Nice German. Excellent Germany, with a surprising depth that wasn't evident at first; nice Gilbert and background hints too. Nice political context, choosing Schröder instead of nowadays politicians. Mindbloeing Russia, a mind games type of guy who's just the perfect mix of creepy and cute and dark and seductive; more of the later, to my delight ♥ (very convincing in everything, too; often, authors write that Ivan is a master at mind games instead of showing it, but this fic is perfect in his creepiness and the manipulation for amusement's sake, and very convincing in its unnervingness and the wariness it awakens in poor unsuspecting LudwigXD.) The seduction was...god. So hot; I like forceful consensual sex, so this was a delicious treat. I also loved the nickname play, specially this new one for Ludwig in Russian <3
No, it hadn’t been anything sexual per se. Unless one counted weird, inexplicably joyous feelings while being stuck in a conference room decorated with a giant Flag of the Soviet Union where Russia, dressed in a KGB general’s uniform, was giving a speech in his native language. A dream that had him wake up with a hard-on not quite of the nature every man experienced in the morning.
LOL, I loved this. As random as dreams are, but also understandably sexy!
OP HERE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!11111!111!1one
anonymous
June 8 2010, 21:45:24 UTC
HOLY TITTYFUCKING CHRIST D8
I did not expect to get the fill THAT fast! And it's... I don't even know what to say. It's P-E-R-F-E-C-T in every way! The way you wrote Russia was so delightfully creepy yet innocent and it was more in character than anything I have read before! People often tend to make him either too harmless or too rapetruck-y. But this was great! Same goes for Ludwig. I liked how he got more and more aggressive and dominating the hornier Ivan made him - just to be reduced to a wanton puddle of needy german beer goo! And the descriptions of Ivan's body were exactly how I pictured him ♥ Not to forget how you described THE ACCENT OH MY GOD. That is such a big kink of mine! Germany, I want your dreams, huff huff~ And the porn was deliciously raw and rough and manly ♥ But the icing on the cake were the historical tidbits and the idea with the medal, the opera and the "Moskau" song! "Hetalia - Our porn makes people smarter" indeed. This is definitely one of the best fills I've ever read, dear writer!anon ♥
Re: A lesson in Russian-German Relations NOTES
anonymous
December 17 2011, 03:21:22 UTC
This fill is actually everything my little RusGer heart desires. The WWII references, the dominant Russia, the 'Russia being a complete dick', the age difference, the Soviet references -- uhgfgkhskjgfhsdkafhsPERFECT. Really just fantastic. (I don't think I'll ever listen to Wagner quite the same way again...)
Albeit he usually was good at holding his liquor, Ivan’s national drink got to him very quickly.
Stop acting so paranoid, he berated himself. He’s never done anything to you before. Why would he change his mind now? Plus, our bosses are close friends.
To end the first day, a trip to the opera had been planned; the only thing he’d truly been looking forward to. Ludwig loved the opera, and the Mariinsky Theatre was world famous. It was the first time he got to visit it, too. And, maybe, just maybe, it would help him forget about his fixation on Russia’s possible motives.
Seated behind Putin and Schröder as well as their respective wives, he was out of sight, and, hopefully, out of mind of everyone else for the time being. Once the lights had been dimmed, Ludwig relaxed in his chair, a quiet sigh coming past his lips. The darkness surrounding him, the quiet replacing previous chitchat of the other visitors; it made him feel a tad safer.
He did lift a brow when he heard the first few notes, however. This opera; Bavaria had introduced him to it as a young teenager. He remembered having watched its first performance ever, and how stunned he had been by it. Completely blown away. Thus, his love for this particular composer had been born. A love which had been tainted decades later.
Suddenly, something light, almost as light as a breeze, brushed the back of his head. Flinching hard, he turned round, saw Russia gliding into the seat next to him with no sounds whatsoever.
Smiling as kindly as ever, Ivan leant closer, his lips slightly touching the shell of his ear.
“I do apologise for being so late, Ludwig. It lies not in my nature to let guests wait, but quite important matters demanded my presence elsewhere.” Additionally, he placed his hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently. “Oh, and I sincerely hope you are pleased by my choice for tonight’s performance. Wagner is one of your favourites, yes? I also convinced my boss we use the original version. It does sound so much more powerful in your tongue.”
Politeness required him to nod, but no words would leave his mouth. And there was an odd tingling forming where Braginski had touched him. The voice he used, his accent, caused another strange feeling to pool in his stomach. He couldn’t pinpoint it, but it made him remember his dreams from last night.
No, it hadn’t been anything sexual per se. Unless one counted weird, inexplicably joyous feelings while being stuck in a conference room decorated with a giant Flag of the Soviet Union where Russia, dressed in a KGB general’s uniform, was giving a speech in his native language. A dream that had him wake up with a hard-on not quite of the nature every man experienced in the morning.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ivan turning his attention to the stage. Why exactly this furthered his nerviness, he couldn’t tell.
Whatever game he was playing with him, he was a true master at it.
Germany didn’t like it. He never had been one to easily succumb to another’s mindgames.
Halfway through the third scene, Ludwig had managed to calm down somewhat. The music did have a soothing effect on his agitated mind, and even after more than a century, this opera still filled him with joy. Or maybe it was due to the dramatic, opulent melodies which had his own emotional turmoil pale beside them.
“All mythologies have some truth to them, correct? Do tell, was there ever any Rhine gold, Ludwig?” Ivan suddenly whispered to him, the hand previously on his shoulder now resting on his knee. “Such a ring, it would be a powerful accessory --- as would be that helmet.”
Ludwig instantly tensed up.
“It’s just a --- story.” He almost hissed, attempting to remove that hand, but instead just putting his own over it. Any abrupt movements, and someone might notice. “There are no magic rings!”
“How sad.”
Oddly enough, Ivan sounded genuinely disappointed.
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Ivan took this as a chance to move his own hand further up. Ludwig swore he could feel the other’s amusement at his uncharacteristical hesitation to say one stupid word. And yet Russia passed on to another, completely unrelated question.
“Wagner worked on this for more than a quarter of a century, correct?”
The hand came to a halt once more, before fingertips began to softly knead his thigh. Russia’s accented voice, a barely audible whisper still, rumbled through him, adding to the unwelcome warmth coursing through him.
“Yes, he did. Not continuously so, though ---. Stop that, Braginski!”
Luckily for him, the music was loud enough so that their bosses wouldn’t hear them talk. The mere thought of Schröder, or worse even; Putin, deciding to turn around now was enough to have him on edge.
“That is indeed impressive.” Again, Ivan stopped his motions. “I can see why Hitler worshipped him so.”
Hearing that name, Germany froze. Did he have to bring him up?
Now he was certain that all of Russia’s actions had been on purpose.
Now he had a reason to honestly feel uneasy around this nation.
However, the why still remained a mystery to him.
“What has happened to those great, talented composers coming from your lands, Ludwig? Nowadays your children produce such funny songs like “Moskau”. While those are certainly amusing, I cannot help but wonder ---.”
A chiding note in his otherwise soft voice, Russia cocked his head. Additionally, he poked his cheek with his index finger.
“That was thirty years ago! --- And would you please cut that out!”
The nation looked as if he did his hardest not to crack up. To make things worse, Putin’s wife turned around right then. Ludwig thought his heart was about to burst out of his chest. To make things worse, Ivan did not remove his hand, giving the woman a friendly nod instead.
Damn you to hell, Braginski!, he thought, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.
Ludwig felt trapped like that dwarf in Wagner’s tetralogy who’d just been captured. Gladly, Mrs Putin didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. Yet it probably was what made Russia continue.
As the end of the third scene approached, his warm palm, soft and yet strong, glided closer to his hip, its destination obvious.
What had been his brother’s words? About as kinky as you allegedly are ... Well, Germany did have to admit that Russia had quite a filthy mind, considering what he did, and where of all places!
The most shocking, though, was the fact that, in his joking ways, Gilbert had been right about Ivan’s motives. Part of him wished it had been something else as it probably would’ve been easier to deal with, whilst another part couldn’t deny how very appealing the idea itself was. That was to say, Ludwig would have been more appreciative of it, if their roles had been reversed.
Shooting him another glare, once he began palming him through his trousers, Germany gnashed his teeth and decided to reciprocate. Maybe then Russia would understand how precarious a game his was; in public.
Enough was enough! He was a man, not some foolish, inexperienced teenaged boy. And he would not let himself be played like one.
“Tut-tut, Ludwig ...,” were Ivan’s words, who took a hold of that straying hand whereas keeping up with his own treatment. “Enjoy the opera, yes?”
The nation didn’t seem to be bothered in the least by his failed attempt to get back at him, sounded as if he was reprehending an unruly child for trying to nick a treat for adults only.
Gently, his fingers danced over his soon hardening flesh. Playfully teasing him, before they became more bold and stronger in their caress, only to turn light and almost hesitant again. Mimicking the music’s ups and downs.
It didn’t take him long to have Germany on the verge of squirming, who couldn’t quite decide why he wasn’t putting a stop to this. Was it fear of being caught, or was it because not only his body started to seriously enjoy what was being done to him.
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In his thoughts, he cursed Wagner, for the fourth scene was not only the longest, but also contained quite a few slower and quiet passages. And he just knew that Russia was going to draw this out till the last note had been played.
Longing for the finale, to be released in more than one way, Ludwig bit his hand, eyes squeezed shut tightly as he dug his fingers into the armrest. He’d never been one to be vocal when aroused, but right now it was incredibly hard to keep quiet. The constant fear of someone noticing, thus being forced to keep silent made something so simple as a handjob a lot more intense.
The proper and rational part of his took its last stand some ten minutes before the scene ended, dying down for good after a rather sad attempt to break free from the lust inflicted on him against his will.
Was recounting budgeted revenues of 2000 really the best he could come up with? No wonder it didn’t work.
The music.That incredible feeling. Those bombastic sounds and melodies, rushing through his whole body and mixing with the ecstacy already there.
One reached the finish, the other didn’t. A split second before bliss would’ve replaced doubt at last that hand withdrew, and Russia stood to applaud the opera singers and orchestra.
Germany couldn’t believe it. Breathing heavily, he held onto the armrest, staring at the older nation.
Denied. Just like that. Had he strung him along just for fun?! Had that been his motive? Oh please ...
Disbelief quickly got erased by an emotion as strong as the lust still locked inside of him.
“I do hope you enjoyed the performance, Ludwig~,” Ivan then said, ripping him out of his sinister musings.
“You ...!” I’m not some toy you can play around with as you plase, you asshole!, he thought angrily. You are going to regret this! I am not my brother!
“Or not?”
Everybody else around them already made to leave, but Germany didn’t. Partly for reasons he’d rather not be known to the world.
“Is something wrong?”
Ivan himself was a master at expressions unreadable. If Ludwig hadn’t been the victim of his stupid, so not funny joke, he probably wouldn’t have noticed anything out of the ordinary. That voice. How did he manage to make it sound so innocent?
“You know damn well what’s wrong, Braginski!” He pressed.
“They say conjuring up bad memories helps little misfortunes such as this to go away.”
The urge to ram his fist through Russia’s face was immense, almost as bad as his need to come. Was that all he had to say to him? It would’ve been less infuriating, if he’d just laughed at him.
“Do you have trouble thinking of anything of the sort? Let’s see ... Wasn’t Stalingrad pretty bad for you?”
Oh, he did not just go there, did he?!
For a moment, he shot him the nastiest, most hateful glare he could muster, taking a deep breath and then closing his eyes, lest he didn’t kill Braginski right then and there. Counting to ten, he released his hold on the armrest and stood.
“I would like to retreat to my hotel room now.”
Ludwig had not used a voice this hostile in over sixty years.
He’d not exchange another word with Russia on their way to said hotel. He didn’t do so much as look at him. On the outside, Ludwig appeared distant, cold even, but on the inside he was boiling with rage hotter than a thousand suns combined.
It took a lot out of him to come down from that rage. And even after he’d managed, he kept sitting on his bed for yet another hour; completely unmoving.
Things his brother told him on a constant basis flared up in his mind. How people liked to play jokes on him in particular. Ludwig knew he took many things far too seriously. He also knew he really should loosen up from time to time. Such was easier said than done, of course.
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Tonight was different, though. No one ever had tested his patience to such a degree before. Ivan had pushed all his buttons simultaneously.
Furthermore, he still couldn’t tell if he’d been joking or not.
“Not bad ... My brother could learn a thing or two from you, Braginski,” he muttered into the emptiness of his hotel room
Yes, he was officially impressed by Russia’s skills, as questionable they might be.
Subtle, but powerful. Very effective indeed.
Part of him still wanted to bash the nation’s skull in, but why not go for something more subtle instead? Germany’s reputation when it came to certain tastes wasn’t so far from the truth either. Even though he’d got it for the wrong reasons, and thanks to the crazy blabbering of a panicked North Italy in captivity way back when.
It was high time he returned some of the pleasantries the others so willingly handed out to him anyway. After what he’d put him through tonight, starting with Russia seemed like a good idea.
Two could play this game, in his opinion.
~
Aside from a young and very drunk couple which almost bumped into him, Ludwig found the hallways abandoned. Only a few minutes later he stood in front of Russia’s hotel room. Taking a deep breath, he knocked firmer than intended.
He may have got his rage under control, but there was something else. Remnants of the lust which had been interrupted so abruptly, and something which felt oddly similar to anticipation.
Bleib ruhig, he muttered to himself.
When Ivan finally answered the door, he did so in nothing but a t-shirt and boxershorts.
The fact he’d probably woken him made him smile a little on the inside.
“Ludwig? What a surprise! What can I do for you at such a late hour?”
Germany let his eyes wander across his chest and below for a second, making sure Russia would notice, before he looked up at him.
“Oh, I must’ve forgotten that you’re two hours ahead of me, Braginski. It explains why I couldn’t seem to find any sleep.”
Without waiting for the other’s reply, Ludwig pushed past him and switched the lights on. Interesting. He’d got the better suite. Ivan apparently did care a lot about his guests’ comforts, and not just for show.
Leaning against the sideboard, he took great pleasure in watching the other nation trying to get used to the brighness flooding the room. However, even like this, in sleeping clothes and with his hair dishevelled, he still managed to come off as quite impressive. Ludwig knew he had to play his cards well, if he wanted to come out as the victor. Russia’s height alone made him a tough target for the kind of game he had in mind.
“I was thinking about this evening’s performance, Braginski. In fact, I’m still thinking about it,” here he paused, observing him for a reaction.
Russia merely yawned and waited for him to go on. He either did not get what he was referring to, or he was very good at hiding his surprise. Remembering that little game he’d played with him, it most likely was the latter. It was a bit unsettling, but he wouldn’t let it get in his ways.
“Why don’t we have a chat, Ivan?” Ludwig continued, pointing at the armchairs not far from the window. “Have a seat.”
Russia quirked a brow at being addressed with his given name. Something Germany had never done before. Tactics, he knew how to use them, too. Mostly from his days as the Third Reich. Something good must’ve come out of that time after all. Part of him instantly berated himself for thinking in such lanes, but he pushed that nagging voice aside quickly.
“Would you care for a drink? I know I could go for a beer ---.”
If one kept in mind how important it was for Russia to be a good host, it should make him feel uncomfortable or at least awkward to have his guest taking the lead in this department. Though he denied a drink, he sat down without any further ado.
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“Is this good?”
“Ah, I would suggest you go for the black can. Baltika Krepkoe. It is my favourite, and I do recommend it to a beer connoisseur such as you.”
Of course, he knew that name, thus he ignored the comment on his seeming ignorance of one of Europe’s biggest breweries. He simply couldn’t read Kyrillic. And though he didn’t quite like the tone in Russia’s voice -it was far too sweet for his tastes- Ludwig reached for said can. It probably had vodka in it, but it wasn’t as if he had planned to chitchat over a beer anyway.
“Thank you for the suggestion. I haven’t had the chance to try this one before.”
Loosening his tie, he made his way over to Ivan at last. Yet he still didn’t sit down, merely put the can on the coffee table.
There was a moment their eyes met, neither of them looking away.
Just a moment of distraction was all Ludwig needed, so he leant forward and popped the lid open, can tipped slightly in the older nation’s direction.
It worked better than expected. A small shake of the drink while he’d had his back turned to Ivan, and the end result was a cold, foamy shower for his host.
Russia barely flinched, but his surprise definitely was showing this time. Such a childish action was unheard of when it came to Germany after all.
“Oh mein Gott, this is awkward! I’m so sorry. Here, let me help you.”
White lies, no? Pulling off the tie completely, Ludwig used it to wipe off beer stains covering the other’s face. And while he put on the demeanor of his usual, concerned and apologetic self, he had quite the trouble with keeping his laughter from breaking free. Russia’s expression was simply priceless.
He then let his tie slither down Ivan’s neck, edging closer and replacing finest silk with the tip of his tongue to remove what stains were left. Tasted quite a bit stronger than the stouts his breweries produced, he noticed. Germany had to admit, if grudgingly so, that it wasn’t all that bad either.
“Lyudya ... what are you doing?”
Lyudya? Was that an insult or a nickname? The nation hadn’t used it on him before. Ludwig decided he’d disregard it for now, tongue gliding over the outlines of Ivan’s mouth. According to his brother, this one was a good lay. By now, he really was not adverse to the idea anymore. And if he was honest with himself, Gilbert had been right all along.
“Oh, what does it look like? I’m simply cleaning up my mess, ... Vanya.”
He could do the nickname thing, too. The shadow of a smirk played around his lips and he cupped the back of Russia’s head, fingers combing through its tousled strands. Both ends of his tie were hanging down Ivan’s chest now. Looping them around his free hand, Ludwig pulled him closer. Carefully. Slowly. He wouldn’t want him to pick up on his true intent too quickly.
Soft lips beneath his twisted into a smirk of their own, but Germany didn’t waste a thought on it. Russia kept still, didn’t show any signs of being alerted. His breath was even and his hands placed on the armrest in a relaxed fashion.
“Not bad ...,” he whispered, lapping up a drop of beer pearling on his bottom lip. “For a beer not German, that is.”
Ivan chuckled: “I’m afraid I cannot say the same about German vodka, comrade.”
Oh, now that was a word he’d not heard in a long time. Fully pressing his mouth on Russia’s, his fingertips dug into his scalp and he pulled more strongly on the tie. An answer to his taunt.
And yet the older nation remained unmoving, like a marble statue, not reacting in any way.
Gently gnawing at the tender skin of his lips, Ludwig tried to coax them open, giving them a lick while tightening his hold on the fabric. When he still got no response, he tried a more aggressive approach, pushing him back into the armchair and attacking his mouth with nips rapidly becoming more vicious.
“Lyudya, let me ask you again. What do you think you’re doing?”
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Ludwig grinned, yanking at the tie and seating himself on his lap.
“You know, my brother would say that that is a question beyond stupid, Ivan ---”
“Your brother, da?”
Was that a giggle? His attitude was becoming just the tiniest bit of frustrating. Yet when he moved closer, Ludwig noticed that his actions hadn’t been wasted on him.
“You can say what you want about Gilbert, but he does have his moments.”
Pushing against the obvious poking through crimson boxers, Germany left bitemarks along his jawline. He would repay him. He would reduce Russia to a wanton heap of lust, just as he’d done with him.
“Oh, dorogusha ...,” his counterpart cooed. “No one knows that better than I do ---.”
Again, there was this odd churning in his stomach, thus his hold turned almost choking now. Even in this position, Russia still acted unphased by anything he said or did. Running a hand down his chest, he rammed his fingers into the other’s side. Soft tissue that covered surprisingly firm muscles, bruising in his tight grip now. Apparently, he wasn’t as much out of shape as his outer appearance made people believe.
“Is that so?”
Finally, Ivan stiffened underneath him, if only for a split second. Feeling victorious, Ludwig lifted his head, just to see him smile. That far-too-sweet, way-too-innocent-to-be-real smile so typical for this nation. A shiver ran down his back, and for a second there he had no idea how to proceed.
The distraction needed. Suddenly, Russia lunged forward, grabbed him by the neck. Damn, he knew how to move fast. Something he’d not expected of him.
“I doubt you came here to discuss your brother, Lyudya ---.”
Whispers washing over his lips, sending more shivers through him. Another rushed movement sent the beer can toppling over and creating a sticky mess on the rug as Russia pushed them out of the chair using all his weight.
Instantly, an arm wrapped itself around his back, to keep him from falling over, or maybe trapping him, while the other sauntered along his waistline, before leaving bruises mirroring the ones he’d inflicted on him.
“Braginski ...!”
What had been impossible for him to accomplish, Russia managed without even having to try. Any protests were prohibited from entering the world by a powerful kiss sealing his lips shut. Just as masterfully as the touches that had made him squirm earlier, these kisses made his knees buckle quite soon.
The ball definitely was back in Ivan’s court, so to speak, and it took him another few seconds to actually react to this turn of events. Grabbing onto his broad upper arms, head tilted upward slightly, Ludwig answered him likewise, but not without being pushed back further.
Were these the famous Russian customs Gilbert had mentioned? His head was swimming, and not just because he hit it when bumping into the wall.
Ludwig’s own hands seemed to not know where to go or what to touch, for his body decided it liked this treatment too much to care about his goals. Ivan quickly freed his shirt from all its buttons then bouncing off the floor.
Too much friction made him lose control over the noises he’d have kept in otherwise, his body moving on its own and against the other for more.
“The tie --- it has a nice touch, dorogusha.”
And so the tie found its way around his wrists, securing them behind his back with practiced moves. Nothing he could’ve done about it. Russia outdid him in terms of strength. Those few rolls of flab making his stomach so soft to one’s touch certainly had given him a wrong impression.
Dorogusha. The second time he’d called him that. Insult, petname or nickname? He really had to pick up the other’s language.
Pushing against him, he sought more kisses. For a little while, Russia seemed inclined to play along with this desire of his, and again he lost himself in the feel of his hot tongue exploring his mouth.
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It wasn’t as if he’d underestimated him. Far from it. Russia just had a way to surprise him over and over again.
“What cute sounds you make ---.”
Ivan’s voice set off more of the heat renewing itself. Powerful hands roamed over his upper body, only allowing him little space to move. Playing with him once more, as he’d done hours ago, he now wouldn’t even grant him the pleasure of grinding into him.
Verflucht noch mal, hör auf mich so hinzuhalten!
“Did you just curse me, Lyudya?”
Did he say that out loud?
Ludwig blinked, mouth half open. He wanted to counter, but Russia simply turned him round and made him face the wall. It would’ve been futile to argue with him anyway, for he understood German well enough.
“You young ones lack patience,” Ivan purred in his ear, before biting down on its shell. “Although, considering it’s you, it’s almost adorable again.”
Curse him indeed. But all he could do was let out a low moan when those teeth sank into his neck. Shoving him forward and into the wall, he made sure Ludwig would have to wear a scarf of his own for days to come, lest others saw just what he’d been up to in St. Petersburg.
By now, Germany was trembling with need, his body twitching when Russia’s fingertips brushed his hard length seemingly by accident.
He stood very close to him, pressed against his back. Ludwig could feel that he desired this just as much. Heat of his body jumping over to his and amplifying the lust scorching his senses.
How Ivan still could act so calm was beyond him. Rubbing up against him as well as the cold surface of the wall, Ludwig was determined to get things going for real. It wasn’t like him to be aroused this quickly nor act as wantonly, but he’d been pushed to the edge earlier already.
Pressing his forehead against the wall, he closed his eyes. All he could think about were those hands, and how they’d finally touch him again. Wrapped around his dripping cock, this time hopefully without any cloth in between.
“Do it already!”
Sounds of his belt and zipper being undone were the sweetest he’d ever heard, the volume of his moans turning up when he got what he needed the most at last. Steady and firm, up and down. Still too slow, but it was a start, and more than he’d got so far.
“You didn’t even come prepared ...”
Ivan’s other hand felt his pockets while he laved the bruised spot on his neck with his tongue, before moving on to create its twin.
Ludwig’s face fell at those words. How could he have forgotten?
“I believed you of all people would be more organised than this.”
Hushed words, barely audible over his moans. However, the amusement dripping from them couldn’t have been more clear.
Moving to let his trousers fall around his ankles, one hand abandoned him.
“Be glad I am more considerate than you and your horny mind, Ludwig.”
Something was off about this statement, but he couldn’t tell what. Shortlived confusion, swept away when he saw Russia holding up lubrication and a condom.
Pleasant shudders ran through him, his breath hitching when cold stickiness dropped on his buttocks and trickled down his crack.
Ivan took his time spreading the oil, one arm around his waist. Again, he had to resort to seeking pleasure from the coarse surface of the wall. A mixture of groans and whines filled the room, and he welcomed the finger diving into his tight depths with a heated growl.
There was a gentleness about Russia’s touches that almost seemed unnatural. So very contrary to the teeth leaving more imprints on the nape of his neck.
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Ivan whispered something into his ear he didn’t understand. It sounded appreciative, dirty and also completely honest. Ludwig wondered if he even noticed he did it in Russian. The bonds around his wrists were loosened, glided to the floor with the ghost of a caress along his legs.
Ludwig immediately reached out for him, pulling him closer and pushing down on his arousal sliding between his buttocks.
One hand cupped his chin, and Russia savoured the feeling of his heat wrapping itself around him. Oh so slowly.
More foreign words and his tongue danced over abused flesh. Germany couldn’t keep himself together anymore, rotating his hips and squeezing his hard cock with his muscles.
For the first time, he heard the other nation make a lustful noise. Yet Ivan still commanded their pace. Soon, though, a hand lay on his hip, heavy and bruising again, to absorb some of the force behind his thrusts gradually rising. Rough and deep, they left their marks on his insides as well.
Ludwig knew it wouldn’t take long, but for now it seemed like the most blissful eternity. Blazing ecstacy filled every cell of his body, made him forget everything else around him.
He felt weightless in that crushingly tight embrace, fingernails leaving scratches on the wallpaper in his attempts to keep standing. Only when his lust began to peak, Ivan touched his member again, pumping him hard until he’d spill himself violently.
Creating red streaks on his back to make Germany tumble and fall apart underneath him, Russia let go of himself as well, a soundless moan muffled against the back of the younger one’s head.
Cheek pressed against the wall now sticky with his essence, Ludwig slumped down in Ivan’s arms, giving up his last of restraints by trusting in the other’s strength to keep him from going down.
A long time ago, propaganda made him think Russia was a backwards nation to be conquered and ruled.
Then Russia’d been hidden behind an invisible yet impenetrable curtain, and everybody, not just Germany, had believed him to be some sort of monster for almost half a century. Propaganda again.
These days he saw him as someone who took work seriously, striving to improve ever more.
And yet there was that sense of humour Ludwig had missed completely, until a few weeks ago.
Learning that they indeed did share certain tastes ... It was perhaps the biggest surprise out of all.
Germany knew one thing. He knew nothing, absolutely nothing about this nation’s character. Facts and history were just that. They did not tell him anything else.
Damp lips glided over his neck as he panted heavily, speaking words that made him realise whose game they’d been playing all along.
“My performance, dorogusha. You never told me what you thought about it. Did it please you?”
~
Contentment showed on his features while he watched him sleep. He looked so different like this, his face relaxed and peaceful, void of that usual stoic and harsh expression.
One leg had found its way between his, the only physical contact they’d shared in bed.
Ivan decided he liked this enough to want to repeat it.
Admiring the black and red marks he’d left on the young one’s body, he reached out and traced one of the bigger welts on his back. Ludwig stirred slightly in his sleep, mumbling something incomprehensible. But instead of shying away, he edged closer to the source of warmth next to him.
Ivan smiled.
Yes, he was going to keep this one. What had started out as a means of entertaining himself might have just become a little more fun than expected.
Germany seemed full of surprises himself.
End
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- a bottle of Rodnik Gold costs about $500. It’s the most expensive vodka out there. Baltika Breweries is Europe’s second biggest brewery. Germans are very proud of their beer, just like Danes and Belgians, and oftentimes don’t want to try anything else. Here in Germany, people even like to fight about what region produces the better beer. Beer=serious business for true Germans! *lol* I must be a fraud, cause I like Danish beer, too.
- The programme for the first meet-up of the St. Petersburg Dialogue included a trip to the opera, and they did perform the Rheingold by Wagner, in German.
- Song Ivan was humming: ”Moskau“ by Dschingis Khan, from 1970 (by a West German songwriter, mind you. This is not some Soviet propaganda drinking song). Parts of the lyrics that do indeed sound as if the songwriter had a giant boner for like a love confession to Russia:
Foreig and mysterious
[…]
Cold as ice
[…]
But those who truly know you
they know, a fire is burning
so hot inside of you
[…]
Russia is a beautiful country
[…]
Your soul is so big
[…]
Those who know your soul
They know, [your] love is burning
as hot as a blaze
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CzycFeqNxIA
ACHTUNG!, this is potentially silly music (probably more so for my fellow Germans). In my opinion, it’s so bad it’s funny again. No, we will NOT go into their costumes!
- the medal Ivan gave to Ludwig: an Order of the Patriotic War, 2nd class. The Great Patriotic War refers to the war Germany and the Soviet Union fought during WWII. It looks like this: http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/b/ba/Order_Of_The_Patriotic_War_%282st_Class%29.png
- Vladimir Putin and the former chancellor of Germany, Gerhard Schröder, always have been on very good terms, and are close friends outside of work, too.
- The debut performance of Wagner’s Rheingold was in 1869, in Munich, Bavaria.
- Ludwig who was made to believe that Russia was backwards nation: Nazi propaganda later on said Russians, or Slavs in general, were subhuman. There even were soldier songs about how backwards Russia was, and how much soldiers hated having to go there.
- Hidden behind an invisible curtain: reference to the Iron Curtain. I guess I don’t have to go into Cold War propaganda.
random German:
- Brüderlein=little brother (Brüderlein is a diminutive for brother)
- Bleib ruhig: Stay calm
- Verdammt noch mal, hör auf mich so hinzuhalten: Damnit, stop stringing me along like this.
random Russian:
- Lyudya is the diminutive for Ludwig, like Vanya is for Ivan
- Dorogusha: deary (of course, Ivan uses this as an innocent taunt)
(Thanks for the help, Alikurai. ♥)
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russia was appropriately mind-controlling. i hate it when people just write him as RAEPTRUCK since, well, he's russia. he's a little more subtle than that.
the sex was so hot unf unf
also, not gonna lie. moskau reference made my week.
the plot, the dialogue--well. i am supremely happy now.
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Ok, that was really really REALLY awesome. Nice German. Excellent Germany, with a surprising depth that wasn't evident at first; nice Gilbert and background hints too. Nice political context, choosing Schröder instead of nowadays politicians. Mindbloeing Russia, a mind games type of guy who's just the perfect mix of creepy and cute and dark and seductive; more of the later, to my delight ♥ (very convincing in everything, too; often, authors write that Ivan is a master at mind games instead of showing it, but this fic is perfect in his creepiness and the manipulation for amusement's sake, and very convincing in its unnervingness and the wariness it awakens in poor unsuspecting LudwigXD.)
The seduction was...god. So hot; I like forceful consensual sex, so this was a delicious treat.
I also loved the nickname play, specially this new one for Ludwig in Russian <3
No, it hadn’t been anything sexual per se. Unless one counted weird, inexplicably joyous feelings while being stuck in a conference room decorated with a giant Flag of the Soviet Union where Russia, dressed in a KGB general’s uniform, was giving a speech in his native language. A dream that had him wake up with a hard-on not quite of the nature every man experienced in the morning.
LOL, I loved this. As random as dreams are, but also understandably sexy!
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*mass of blubbling happy goo*
Seriously. Can't even give you a proper review. 8(
*bookmarks*
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I did not expect to get the fill THAT fast!
And it's... I don't even know what to say. It's P-E-R-F-E-C-T in every way!
The way you wrote Russia was so delightfully creepy yet innocent and it was more in character than anything I have read before!
People often tend to make him either too harmless or too rapetruck-y.
But this was great!
Same goes for Ludwig. I liked how he got more and more aggressive and dominating the hornier Ivan made him - just to be reduced to a wanton puddle of needy german beer goo!
And the descriptions of Ivan's body were exactly how I pictured him ♥
Not to forget how you described THE ACCENT OH MY GOD.
That is such a big kink of mine! Germany, I want your dreams, huff huff~
And the porn was deliciously raw and rough and manly ♥
But the icing on the cake were the historical tidbits and the idea with the medal, the opera and the "Moskau" song! "Hetalia - Our porn makes people smarter" indeed.
This is definitely one of the best fills I've ever read, dear writer!anon ♥
TL;DR:
A+, would fap again.
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Really just fantastic. (I don't think I'll ever listen to Wagner quite the same way again...)
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