Re: [Russia/Canada] Meaningful [2/4]
anonymous
April 27 2010, 04:37:10 UTC
Recovering slightly, Russia shifted back, bracing himself against the pillows and them against the headboard, pulling Canada fully onto his lap. He pushed Canada’s sweaty fringe away from his eyes and smiled. Multicolored and bright and warm; the world was his, tonight. Canada held Russia in his arms and kissed him, and he could feel all eleven, no, nine different time zones, pulsing under his fingertips.
Russia pulled back, licking his lips, savoring. His eyes shone, and there was no tension on his shoulders. Recent terrorist attacks and financial problems being slowly obliterated from his mind. Canada closed his eyes and kissed him again. This Russia was his; this moment and this night. Next time it would be different, there would be other problems in their minds and other bruises on their bodies. Canada kissed him harder, pushing him until Russia’s head touched the headboard. Russia caressed his cheekbones with the pads of his thumbs, hips rocking slowly.
Canada followed the motion, disentangling his lips from Russia’s so he could breathe better, harder. Russia fumbled for the lube around them, squeezing some in his palm when he found it.
Next thing Canada felt was pleasantly cool, slick finger prodding his rear. His mouth closed around Russia’s jaw; teeth and lips and damp breath, his face contorting in a wince. Carefully, Russia dipped inside. Canada gasped.
Once accustomed, it was easier to relax and let himself be prodded. He trusted Russia, maybe not with his government secrets, and definitely not with the Arctic’s sovereignty, but enough to let him see the scar on his left shoulder where a bullet lacerated his skin, inches from the bone, during the Second World War. Enough to let him touch the hypersensitive spot over his seventh rib, where America had bayoneted him during the War of 1812, after he had taken a couple of his teeth off.
Hands on his hips guided him up and forward, and gently he lowered himself inch by inch onto Russia’s erection, feeling his pulse throb through his entire being. Russia threw his head back against the headboard, and Canada could see the muscles on his throat contracting.
His thin lips were bright red, and Canada felt like kissing him again, but didn’t. He wanted to watch; to see his Adam’s apple bob with difficulty, his fingers to twitch over the skin of his hips. He moved, just a little, and Russia whispered his name.
Canada smiled, and gave in. He moved again, and Russia’s next whisper echoed inside his mouth.
They didn’t take long to pick a rhythm - slow enough to tease; fast enough to be mind-blowing. Russia closed a hand over Canada’s erection and worked on a similar pattern, only making sure to be extra attentive with the head; rubbing and pinching and making Canada’s eyes roll in its sockets.
Re: [Russia/Canada] Meaningful [4/4]
anonymous
April 27 2010, 04:40:18 UTC
At one particular thrust Canada moaned loud enough for the whole building to hear. He put a hand over his mouth in alarm and looked apologetically to Russia, feeling some of the blood pooled around his groin shoot straight to his face. Russia merely laughed, and brought Canada’s hand to his lips. He tried to find the same angle again, but this time Canada was too self-conscious.
Russia used the hand in his grasp to pull Canada back into his arms, burying his nose on the curve of his neck. Canada could feel his lazy grin against his skin, and it must’ve been something contagious, because in second he felt it on his lips too.
Hot and tight and smooth. The world could end and he wouldn’t even notice. Russia closed his other arm around him, and Canada sighed heavily; happily.
They didn’t orgasm at the same time, or exchanged love vows. Russia came with a muffled grunt that sounded like a cry, and Canada shivered hard with the extra moisture inside him. Russia pressed his forehead against his collarbone and just breathed for a moment, before his trembling finger closed again around Canada’s member and brought him over as well. Sloppier and messier than they were used to, much like their first time had been, many years ago.
They stood there, collecting their breaths and thoughts, until the room started to became too cold to bear.
Russia nudged Canada’s cheek with his nose, “I missed you.”
Canada, in turn, embraced him, collecting his big form in his arms. This meant something; all of this. The kisses, the touches, the words. They meant more to him than anything else.
To be missed, and held, and loved. It meant the world to him.
“I love you,” he said. And that meant something too.
I absolutely adore Russanada, and this fic just brought that home again.
The pace and the description was just excellent. You could tell they moved together like practised lovers do. The hints of something more, of things unsaid, made me wish there were more than just four parts.
Re: [Russia/Canada] Meaningful [4/4]
anonymous
July 24 2010, 23:21:11 UTC
This is such a great fill for this pairing. I think it hits exactly the right tone, to where it's sweet and loving, without being trite or saccharine. I love how everything is so understated, conveying a definite feeling and atmosphere without being too obvious about it.
Just, all around, hot, sweet, and charming. Thanks, anon!
Russia pulled back, licking his lips, savoring. His eyes shone, and there was no tension on his shoulders. Recent terrorist attacks and financial problems being slowly obliterated from his mind. Canada closed his eyes and kissed him again. This Russia was his; this moment and this night. Next time it would be different, there would be other problems in their minds and other bruises on their bodies. Canada kissed him harder, pushing him until Russia’s head touched the headboard. Russia caressed his cheekbones with the pads of his thumbs, hips rocking slowly.
Canada followed the motion, disentangling his lips from Russia’s so he could breathe better, harder. Russia fumbled for the lube around them, squeezing some in his palm when he found it.
Next thing Canada felt was pleasantly cool, slick finger prodding his rear. His mouth closed around Russia’s jaw; teeth and lips and damp breath, his face contorting in a wince. Carefully, Russia dipped inside. Canada gasped.
Once accustomed, it was easier to relax and let himself be prodded. He trusted Russia, maybe not with his government secrets, and definitely not with the Arctic’s sovereignty, but enough to let him see the scar on his left shoulder where a bullet lacerated his skin, inches from the bone, during the Second World War. Enough to let him touch the hypersensitive spot over his seventh rib, where America had bayoneted him during the War of 1812, after he had taken a couple of his teeth off.
Hands on his hips guided him up and forward, and gently he lowered himself inch by inch onto Russia’s erection, feeling his pulse throb through his entire being. Russia threw his head back against the headboard, and Canada could see the muscles on his throat contracting.
His thin lips were bright red, and Canada felt like kissing him again, but didn’t. He wanted to watch; to see his Adam’s apple bob with difficulty, his fingers to twitch over the skin of his hips. He moved, just a little, and Russia whispered his name.
Canada smiled, and gave in. He moved again, and Russia’s next whisper echoed inside his mouth.
They didn’t take long to pick a rhythm - slow enough to tease; fast enough to be mind-blowing. Russia closed a hand over Canada’s erection and worked on a similar pattern, only making sure to be extra attentive with the head; rubbing and pinching and making Canada’s eyes roll in its sockets.
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Russia used the hand in his grasp to pull Canada back into his arms, burying his nose on the curve of his neck. Canada could feel his lazy grin against his skin, and it must’ve been something contagious, because in second he felt it on his lips too.
Hot and tight and smooth. The world could end and he wouldn’t even notice. Russia closed his other arm around him, and Canada sighed heavily; happily.
They didn’t orgasm at the same time, or exchanged love vows. Russia came with a muffled grunt that sounded like a cry, and Canada shivered hard with the extra moisture inside him. Russia pressed his forehead against his collarbone and just breathed for a moment, before his trembling finger closed again around Canada’s member and brought him over as well. Sloppier and messier than they were used to, much like their first time had been, many years ago.
They stood there, collecting their breaths and thoughts, until the room started to became too cold to bear.
Russia nudged Canada’s cheek with his nose, “I missed you.”
Canada, in turn, embraced him, collecting his big form in his arms. This meant something; all of this. The kisses, the touches, the words. They meant more to him than anything else.
To be missed, and held, and loved. It meant the world to him.
“I love you,” he said. And that meant something too.
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The other day President Medvedev took two time zones from Russia (http://www(.)reuters(.)com(/)article(/)idUSTRE62R0DS20100328)
Oh, and, yeah, I did forget to change the number on part 3. Sorry!
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This fic was so sweet and so sexy at the same time.
Much love~ <3
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This was "hot" anon. Thank you!
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The pace and the description was just excellent. You could tell they moved together like practised lovers do. The hints of something more, of things unsaid, made me wish there were more than just four parts.
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Just, all around, hot, sweet, and charming. Thanks, anon!
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