Sanctuaire [pt 3]
anonymous
March 29 2009, 04:21:12 UTC
Only a short while later, France blinked and then tugged at the other nation’s hair impatiently. “Russia?”
“Hmmm?”
“You can go, ah, a bit faster, or harder, if you want. I am not so fragile.”
“But I like this very much.” Shifting his grip on the other’s hips, he met France’s gaze and smiled sweetly. “It is different, do you not agree? Different… and nice.”
France was about to make a smart-ass reply but found himself interrupted by Russia suddenly changing tactics in a most amazing and acceptable manner. Whatever he wanted to say promptly left his mind, as during the next several minutes he could not quite get the breath to form any coherent words. Or thoughts, even.
As for Russia, he was still not sure how he managed to stay upright, since his legs were trembling from such completely uninhibited pleasure coursing through his entire body. His hearing was filled with France’s barely stifled wordless moans mixing in with his own uneven panting in strange harmony. Somehow, the other nation had matched his pace after the first shock, like the skilled and much too experienced lover he was, and desperately Russia pulled France closer, to fuck him harder. Closer, he thought, so close, so much better than anything anyone had ever given him before, he was almost there, almost---
It was at this exact moment that the bells of Notre Dame started ringing, loudly and merrily.
Shocked by the unexpected sound, Russia almost dropped the other nation, who had burst into hysterical laughter.
--------- “You knew that was going to happen, didn’t you?” Russia muttered, still annoyed at having been caught by surprise. The nation was on his knees now, a properly humble position to assume in a church, though what he was doing at the moment did not have an appropriate place in any service. (At least, not in any regular church service that he knew of, heaven knew what took place in Parisian cathedrals.)
“It was magnifique, Russia, the best~! Ah, if only I had a camera, your face…” Lying on his back, France made a soft noise of pleasure as Russia finished licking him clean, and he wound his fingers into the other’s pale blond hair, satisfied. Russia looked back up at him, a small smile creeping back on to his lips, lips that still glistened most obscenely.
“So… did a choir of angels sing for you as well?” Russia asked, now more amused and sated than annoyed.
Even though he had just promised that he was not going to, France covered his face and laughed again and Russia joined him this time, feeling comfortable and warm and so completely at ease.
After their laughter died away into the silence of the hall, the two nations struggled to sit back up on the cold floor of the balcony, not quite ready to dress just yet.
“This… I did not know how much I missed it until now.” In that vulnerable moment, Russia looked so heartbreakingly beautiful, and France did not hesitate to embrace him.
“I am truly grateful for everything that you have done, France.” (Except for that one thing back in the 1800s, of course.)
“Je t’offre le sanctuaire… For you and yours, I give everything that I possibly can. Always and willingly.” France smiled somewhat wistfully, and rested his head on the other’s bare chest, placing a hand over his heart. “To see your genuine smile again, that is all I ask for.”
Covering France’s hand with his own, Russia sighed contentedly, basking in this peaceful moment before it was lost forever.
“Thank you, my friend…”
---------- The young frere who had been on pigeon-poop duty that day crossed himself and fervently begged forgiveness from God and Jesu and whichever saints would listen. He tried to look at things in a positive light, that it was not often men devoted to the church were allowed to actually see angels (mon Dieu, weren’t they supposed to be sexless?!) so perhaps, just possibly, he may not burn in hell for accidentally looking in on, on, whatever they were doing that was not like sex at all...
Sanctuaire [notes]
anonymous
March 29 2009, 04:29:45 UTC
Apparently France and Russia have had very good relations outside of, you know, the battle of 1812 and stuff. France is historically Russia's main/only ally in Europe. It's probably because... they like hang out and talk about ways to be creepy. Current relations? A bit shaky, but not disastrous...
I didn't think anyone was going to fill this, but you did, and oh god, it was so *beautiful*. With the gargoyles and the buttresses and the windows, and Russia's soft wonder, I felt like I was back in Paris.
And then!!!
The sex was so delicious (and *felching* how did you know my secret kink ilu) and...not sweet, exactly, but...sincere, heartfelt, because they're not OTP lovers-in love, but they care for each other and they like sex and Russia was sane (mostly) but still very him, and France was so IC ( wishing for a camera lol) and the relationship between the two of them, the way they can have gentleness with each other that they can't have with anyone else was so...so elegantly done, just like the description of the cathedral itself, and Russia's internal musings were so right and just....ahhh i love you anon. So much. SO MUCH.
AND THE END OMFG YOU MAD CRAZY CRACED-OUT HILARIOUS GENIUS YOU, I'M LOLING FOREVER!
(Also, how utterly *thrilled* am I that he thinks they were angels, in spite of everything? SO THRILLED.)
*apologizes for utter lack of anything resembling coherency*
Aw shucks, writer!anon is very pleased to hear OP approves! At first anon was like, "Russia/France? OH FUUUUUCK..." Writing them in a sane situation was a challenge, but anon had faith.
Writer!anon desperately wants to visit the Notre Dame some day, too. It seems so beautiful.
Re: Sanctuaire [pt 3]
anonymous
March 29 2009, 21:04:20 UTC
THIS WAS LOVE.
I've read about France/Russias relationships in college class, and I wanted to form some kind of Ivan/Francis relationship in my mind, but I never was sure of how to picture it. This however, seemed completely in-character, and I'm always going to picture this story now! It was relaxing and sweet (which is wonderful, what with Ivan involved) and I really enjoyed this. Thankyou for writing this! You did a wonderful job.
“Russia?”
“Hmmm?”
“You can go, ah, a bit faster, or harder, if you want. I am not so fragile.”
“But I like this very much.” Shifting his grip on the other’s hips, he met France’s gaze and smiled sweetly. “It is different, do you not agree? Different… and nice.”
France was about to make a smart-ass reply but found himself interrupted by Russia suddenly changing tactics in a most amazing and acceptable manner. Whatever he wanted to say promptly left his mind, as during the next several minutes he could not quite get the breath to form any coherent words. Or thoughts, even.
As for Russia, he was still not sure how he managed to stay upright, since his legs were trembling from such completely uninhibited pleasure coursing through his entire body. His hearing was filled with France’s barely stifled wordless moans mixing in with his own uneven panting in strange harmony. Somehow, the other nation had matched his pace after the first shock, like the skilled and much too experienced lover he was, and desperately Russia pulled France closer, to fuck him harder. Closer, he thought, so close, so much better than anything anyone had ever given him before, he was almost there, almost---
It was at this exact moment that the bells of Notre Dame started ringing, loudly and merrily.
Shocked by the unexpected sound, Russia almost dropped the other nation, who had burst into hysterical laughter.
---------
“You knew that was going to happen, didn’t you?” Russia muttered, still annoyed at having been caught by surprise. The nation was on his knees now, a properly humble position to assume in a church, though what he was doing at the moment did not have an appropriate place in any service. (At least, not in any regular church service that he knew of, heaven knew what took place in Parisian cathedrals.)
“It was magnifique, Russia, the best~! Ah, if only I had a camera, your face…” Lying on his back, France made a soft noise of pleasure as Russia finished licking him clean, and he wound his fingers into the other’s pale blond hair, satisfied. Russia looked back up at him, a small smile creeping back on to his lips, lips that still glistened most obscenely.
“So… did a choir of angels sing for you as well?” Russia asked, now more amused and sated than annoyed.
Even though he had just promised that he was not going to, France covered his face and laughed again and Russia joined him this time, feeling comfortable and warm and so completely at ease.
After their laughter died away into the silence of the hall, the two nations struggled to sit back up on the cold floor of the balcony, not quite ready to dress just yet.
“This… I did not know how much I missed it until now.” In that vulnerable moment, Russia looked so heartbreakingly beautiful, and France did not hesitate to embrace him.
“I am truly grateful for everything that you have done, France.” (Except for that one thing back in the 1800s, of course.)
“Je t’offre le sanctuaire… For you and yours, I give everything that I possibly can. Always and willingly.” France smiled somewhat wistfully, and rested his head on the other’s bare chest, placing a hand over his heart. “To see your genuine smile again, that is all I ask for.”
Covering France’s hand with his own, Russia sighed contentedly, basking in this peaceful moment before it was lost forever.
“Thank you, my friend…”
----------
The young frere who had been on pigeon-poop duty that day crossed himself and fervently begged forgiveness from God and Jesu and whichever saints would listen. He tried to look at things in a positive light, that it was not often men devoted to the church were allowed to actually see angels (mon Dieu, weren’t they supposed to be sexless?!) so perhaps, just possibly, he may not burn in hell for accidentally looking in on, on, whatever they were doing that was not like sex at all...
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Je t’offre le sanctuaire - I offer you sanctuary
Now off to hell anon will go.
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OH, ANON!
I didn't think anyone was going to fill this, but you did, and oh god, it was so *beautiful*. With the gargoyles and the buttresses and the windows, and Russia's soft wonder, I felt like I was back in Paris.
And then!!!
The sex was so delicious (and *felching* how did you know my secret kink ilu) and...not sweet, exactly, but...sincere, heartfelt, because they're not OTP lovers-in love, but they care for each other and they like sex and Russia was sane (mostly) but still very him, and France was so IC ( wishing for a camera lol) and the relationship between the two of them, the way they can have gentleness with each other that they can't have with anyone else was so...so elegantly done, just like the description of the cathedral itself, and Russia's internal musings were so right and just....ahhh i love you anon. So much. SO MUCH.
AND THE END OMFG YOU MAD CRAZY CRACED-OUT HILARIOUS GENIUS YOU, I'M LOLING FOREVER!
(Also, how utterly *thrilled* am I that he thinks they were angels, in spite of everything? SO THRILLED.)
*apologizes for utter lack of anything resembling coherency*
You've made me so happy anon. Thank you so much.
Reply
At first anon was like, "Russia/France? OH FUUUUUCK..." Writing them in a sane situation was a challenge, but anon had faith.
Writer!anon desperately wants to visit the Notre Dame some day, too. It seems so beautiful.
Reply
Thank you writer!anon this was very well written <3
Reply
I've read about France/Russias relationships in college class, and I wanted to form some kind of Ivan/Francis relationship in my mind, but I never was sure of how to picture it.
This however, seemed completely in-character, and I'm always going to picture this story now!
It was relaxing and sweet (which is wonderful, what with Ivan involved) and I really enjoyed this. Thankyou for writing this! You did a wonderful job.
Reply
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