American Dream (5)
anonymous
March 21 2009, 21:40:27 UTC
Ivan presses his lips to Alfred’s, their mouths firm against one another as their tongues start to brush and tease at one another. Alfred’s hand lets go of Ivan’s wrist, moves to cup the back of his head tenderly; the other brushes along Ivan’s cheekbone, cheek, the corner of his mouth. It makes Ivan shiver and break their kiss, panting, already so sensitized to touch.
Alfred doesn’t miss a beat, instead ducking his head to lick and nip at Ivan’s jaw while deft fingers unwrap his scarf from his neck. Ivan tenses as Alfred balls it up and throws it away. His neck feels cold in the exposed air, covered with scars and marks that chapter his memories.
Alfred’s fingers come up to brush along them. “Oh, Ivan,” he murmurs, his voice so tender it’s almost a physical pain to Ivan.
Ivan’s eyes flick down and meet Alfred’s blue ones. They shine oddly. Ivan does not want to think about them being tears.
“Not yet, then,” Alfred murmurs, and presses a kiss to Ivan’s lips again before ducking his head and licking along Ivan’s collarbone. Ivan’s muscles relax again, and he trembles as he wraps his arms around Alfred and presses them together tight.
Alfred’s fingers trail up his sides and across his chest, pausing to brush his nipples. Ivan gasps against Alfred’s mouth, feels those lips curl against his in response. Alfred’s fingers move down his stomach, tickle against his abdomen, and Ivan feels himself growing hard in response.
Ivan breaks their kiss, still breathing hard. “H-hold on, please,” he stutters, swinging his legs over the bed’s edge and standing. He shuts off his brain as he reaches out, curls his fingers around a bottle of complimentary hotel lotion, and stumbles back out.
He finds Alfred still on the bed, and his mouth goes dry when he sees that Alfred’s unzipped his jacket. He spends a few moments swearing at the last few buttons on his shirt, but manages to pop them out of their holes.
And as much as Ivan wants to see what’s beneath that shirt, he realizes with a souring stomach that it can’t be that way.
“Alfred, no.” Ivan bolts over to the bed, curls his own hand around Alfred’s and pulls it away from the shirt. “…don’t do that. Please.”
Alfred blinks at him, confused. But he’s drunk and disoriented, and he forgets his actions as Ivan straddles him and kisses him again, fingers trailing down the sliver of Alfred’s exposed skin. His lips are quick to follow, and he drinks in Alfred’s moans while his fingers undo Alfred’s belt and slide it from his pants.
“Ivan.”
Ivan freezes at the fingers brushing his cheek, lifts his head to see Alfred looking down at him. For a moment, the light makes his eyes look lucid and aware. In that moment, Ivan feels the line between dream and reality shift behind him, and he’s stuck solely in the reality of what he’s about to do.
He knows he shouldn’t give it voice, but his mouth moves before his brain can stop it.
“We’re finally going to be one,” he whispers, and it hurts.
“Ivan?” Alfred’s fingertips press into his cheek. All Ivan can do is press his face to Alfred’s stomach and try not to cry in this moment of reality.
When he gets himself under control again, he presses his lips against Alfred’s skin and works his fingers at Alfred’s pants. A few quick moments and Alfred’s pants are open.
Ivan curls his fingers into Alfred’s underwear and pants and pauses, listening to Alfred’s harsh, uneven breaths. He has a chance to back off.
He knows he will hate himself someday for this as he pulls down Alfred’s pants and underwear, listens to Alfred’s sigh as Ivan frees his cock.
Ivan only pulls Alfred’s underwear down to his knees, stopping Alfred when he tries to push them off with sloppy kisses and a hand wrapped around his erection. Alfred moans, his hand going around Ivan’s shoulders, and Ivan sighs and closes his eyes for a moment, just enjoying this second of being close.
His free hand takes the lotion bottle, and his hand lets go of Alfred for a moment. Alfred claws at his back and whines in his ear. Ivan chuckles, listening as it turns into a gasp when one lubed hand returns to stroke him, the other slipping into Alfred’s ass.
Re: American Dream (5)
anonymous
March 21 2009, 23:10:32 UTC
OH MY GOD THIS IS THE BEST RUSSIA/AMERICA FIC I'VE READ. AND I USED TO NOT EVEN LIKE THE PAIRING MUCH, BUT THIS FIC IS SO GOOD I OFFICIALLY CHANGE MY MIND. MORE PLEASEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
Alfred doesn’t miss a beat, instead ducking his head to lick and nip at Ivan’s jaw while deft fingers unwrap his scarf from his neck. Ivan tenses as Alfred balls it up and throws it away. His neck feels cold in the exposed air, covered with scars and marks that chapter his memories.
Alfred’s fingers come up to brush along them. “Oh, Ivan,” he murmurs, his voice so tender it’s almost a physical pain to Ivan.
Ivan’s eyes flick down and meet Alfred’s blue ones. They shine oddly. Ivan does not want to think about them being tears.
“Not yet, then,” Alfred murmurs, and presses a kiss to Ivan’s lips again before ducking his head and licking along Ivan’s collarbone. Ivan’s muscles relax again, and he trembles as he wraps his arms around Alfred and presses them together tight.
Alfred’s fingers trail up his sides and across his chest, pausing to brush his nipples. Ivan gasps against Alfred’s mouth, feels those lips curl against his in response. Alfred’s fingers move down his stomach, tickle against his abdomen, and Ivan feels himself growing hard in response.
Ivan breaks their kiss, still breathing hard. “H-hold on, please,” he stutters, swinging his legs over the bed’s edge and standing. He shuts off his brain as he reaches out, curls his fingers around a bottle of complimentary hotel lotion, and stumbles back out.
He finds Alfred still on the bed, and his mouth goes dry when he sees that Alfred’s unzipped his jacket. He spends a few moments swearing at the last few buttons on his shirt, but manages to pop them out of their holes.
And as much as Ivan wants to see what’s beneath that shirt, he realizes with a souring stomach that it can’t be that way.
“Alfred, no.” Ivan bolts over to the bed, curls his own hand around Alfred’s and pulls it away from the shirt. “…don’t do that. Please.”
Alfred blinks at him, confused. But he’s drunk and disoriented, and he forgets his actions as Ivan straddles him and kisses him again, fingers trailing down the sliver of Alfred’s exposed skin. His lips are quick to follow, and he drinks in Alfred’s moans while his fingers undo Alfred’s belt and slide it from his pants.
“Ivan.”
Ivan freezes at the fingers brushing his cheek, lifts his head to see Alfred looking down at him. For a moment, the light makes his eyes look lucid and aware. In that moment, Ivan feels the line between dream and reality shift behind him, and he’s stuck solely in the reality of what he’s about to do.
He knows he shouldn’t give it voice, but his mouth moves before his brain can stop it.
“We’re finally going to be one,” he whispers, and it hurts.
“Ivan?” Alfred’s fingertips press into his cheek. All Ivan can do is press his face to Alfred’s stomach and try not to cry in this moment of reality.
When he gets himself under control again, he presses his lips against Alfred’s skin and works his fingers at Alfred’s pants. A few quick moments and Alfred’s pants are open.
Ivan curls his fingers into Alfred’s underwear and pants and pauses, listening to Alfred’s harsh, uneven breaths. He has a chance to back off.
He knows he will hate himself someday for this as he pulls down Alfred’s pants and underwear, listens to Alfred’s sigh as Ivan frees his cock.
Ivan only pulls Alfred’s underwear down to his knees, stopping Alfred when he tries to push them off with sloppy kisses and a hand wrapped around his erection. Alfred moans, his hand going around Ivan’s shoulders, and Ivan sighs and closes his eyes for a moment, just enjoying this second of being close.
His free hand takes the lotion bottle, and his hand lets go of Alfred for a moment. Alfred claws at his back and whines in his ear. Ivan chuckles, listening as it turns into a gasp when one lubed hand returns to stroke him, the other slipping into Alfred’s ass.
Reply
THIS IS THE BEST RUSSIA/AMERICA FIC I'VE READ. AND I USED TO NOT EVEN LIKE THE PAIRING MUCH, BUT THIS FIC IS SO GOOD I OFFICIALLY CHANGE MY MIND.
MORE PLEASEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
Reply
Leave a comment