Past-Part Fills Part 7
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Past-Part Fills Part Seven
Fills from past parts can go here!
Fills from the current part (part 22) MUST go in that part's post until it is full.
Link to the original request (and if an ongoing fill, any previous chapters/sections).
Don't forget to link your new fill at the fill ( Read more... )
“Don’t forget your sock, you left it in the sink.” America looked out from under the cocoon of the sheets, blearily watching Russia move around the room while collecting his things and fixing his tie. The hotel room was grey, only touched by the weakest tendrils of morning light. The black alarm clock ticked seconds away from 4:45 and America pulled the teal hotel comforter up higher on his bare back.
Russia hummed and walked to the small kitchenette where a black dress sock hung limply from the silver tap. He grabbed it and walked back to the rumpled bed, sitting down next to where America lay quietly with his head at the foot of the bed and his own feet resting on the starched pillows. Neither said anything as Russia rolled the sock up and pulled it onto his right foot. America moved his leg to touch the cigarette tray on the nightstand, listening to the weighted glass scratch the top loudly.
“I hate this,” he muttered into the mattress, frowning at the green and blue carpeted floor. Russia paused in buttoning up his dress shirt and looked down at the young blond. Cool pale fingers curled around the ends of America’s hair before trailing down his neck and spine. America shivered, bright blue eyes looking up at him with his face still mashed against the bedding.
“Da,” Russia said, “I know.” His fingers trailed along the golden expanse of skin, circling gently around soft red marks made from his fingers from sex only hours ago.
America snorted and burrowed his face in the mattress again, mumbling something inaudible. Deftly buttoning his shirt, Russia smoothed out the wrinkles and looked back down to the younger man. “What?”
“I said I feel like a hooker when you gotta go so early.” He stopped pushing the ashtray around with his toes and rolled over, long legs catching and coiling the sheets and exposing his naked chest.
“Well you sure moan like one,” Russia said with a small grin, leaning to the side as America batted his arm in mock anger. He sobered quickly though and glanced at the door. “We cannot risk being seen. The reaction would be…unsavory.”
America huffed and drummed his fingers against his ribs, staring up at the shadowed ceiling with a frown. “Not unless your face was all bloodied up or something.” With those words he paled and looked back at Russia before pushing off the bed and rolling off with a loud thump. The older man watched him rummage through the room naked while looking for a pack to smoke.
“Briefcase,” he said and stood up from the bed to locate his shoes.
“Thanks”
Russia watched America finally pull out a half empty pack of Marlboros and pounce back onto the empty bed. He sat cross-legged and lit the cigarette up before tossing the red plastic lighter with a clatter next to the clock. It was only when America tilted his head and exhaled that he realized he had been openly staring for the past minute. The smoke danced to the ceiling, gleaming in the slowly strengthening light and the clock clicked loudly as its hands snapped into 5.
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