Envious (3/6)
anonymous
April 1 2009, 08:07:06 UTC
Estonia and Latvia try to hide the cringe that wracks their bodies as Lithuania reveals the crimson scars on his back (he’s become quite adept at ignoring them now; the awkwardness he feels hardly shows), as he lies on his stomach, on the bed. Ever since they’d healed enough for the brunette to wear a shirt comfortably, Ivan’s watched as Latvia carefully lathes each one with a soft, shy kiss and eventually long licks, his thin legs on either side of his older brother’s waist. Just like he is now. His thin hands tickle up the brunette’s sides, making Lithuania cheeks flush (so prettily) and his entire, lithe body squirm deliciously. He’s laughing again when they stop to dig into his arm pits.
Ivan rests a gloved hand against the cool, stone wall, as the other slides down his torso and slips back and forth over the front of his pants. He sighs quietly, his breath hardly fogging in the nippy air.
Estonia carefully mimics Latvia’s actions on the younger nation’s shoulders, easing whatever tension that was left there until Latvia is blushing and rather shaky - though from a much more welcome stimulus than anything Ivan has managed.
Ivan smiles, his violet eyes soft as Latvia arches back with a small, humid moan that goes straight to Ivan’s groin. One of the small nation’s hands is tracing nonsensical patterns on Lithuania’s back. The other is planted firmly in the emerald green duvet, crinkling it spasmodically. He can hear what the boy’s murmuring as his head rolls back and forth, his mouth open. His tongue slips out to run over his reddening lips after every few pleas.
“Please, p-please, please, Eduard, Toris…”
Ivan presses his fingers against himself harder; he’d like nothing more than for Lithuania to press up against him in the way he does for Latvia. The delicate arch his back contorts into as he presses his bum against Latvia’s groin is nothing short of entrancing. The Russian can’t help but lick his cracked lips.
Estonia whispers something into Latvia’s ear, makes the boy bite his lip and clench his eyes shut. Ivan can imagine the boy’s pants are starting to feel uncomfortably tight, as he wriggles and gently tips his hips forwards against Lithuania, and back against Estonia. The boy is what Ukraine would classify as ‘practically skin and bones’ - nothing like Ivan’s meaty form - but his body is beautiful, all pale shades and soft to the touch. Ivan wishes to nibble at the hip bones peeking out from underneath the boy’s maroon pants.
He doesn’t allow himself to dwell on that fantasy for long. Instead his eyes regard Estonia.
He can’t tell - and Ivan won’t risk being found out by attempting to sneak into the house - if Estonia’s glasses have fogged yet, though his face, neck and shoulders are as pink as his brothers’ soft cheeks. Lithuania’s talking to him, whispering again, his bare feet rubbing against the blonde’s smooth back slowly, from side to side. Estonia’s nodding, his hands cupping each side of Latvia’s hips as he rubs himself against the boy’s ass. He leans across his brothers, kissing each one on the cheek before he moves to kneel beside them.
Latvia rolls from Lithuania’s back moments later, opposite Estonia, his lips red and puffy. They’re claimed in a gentle kiss a millisecond later. Ivan almost chuckles as the two younger nations wobble like buoys in a temperamental ocean because of it. It seems the experience has their worlds spinning. He wishes he was in Lithuania’s position, beneath them both.
Ivan sighs and cups himself gently as they shift and Lithuania’s strong hand reaches for Estonia’s pants. His finger tips slide beneath the pea green material, causing Estonia to gasp as they rub against his hip, the top of his ass and dip into his cleft. He’s clinging to Latvia (who’s framed Estonia’s face with his smaller hands), groaning as Lithuania explores deeper. Latvia rains soft kisses against his face, smooths his hair rearranges his glasses. Soon Estonia is shuddering, his pants around his knees and Lithuania’s lips on his ass.
Ivan rests a gloved hand against the cool, stone wall, as the other slides down his torso and slips back and forth over the front of his pants. He sighs quietly, his breath hardly fogging in the nippy air.
Estonia carefully mimics Latvia’s actions on the younger nation’s shoulders, easing whatever tension that was left there until Latvia is blushing and rather shaky - though from a much more welcome stimulus than anything Ivan has managed.
Ivan smiles, his violet eyes soft as Latvia arches back with a small, humid moan that goes straight to Ivan’s groin. One of the small nation’s hands is tracing nonsensical patterns on Lithuania’s back. The other is planted firmly in the emerald green duvet, crinkling it spasmodically. He can hear what the boy’s murmuring as his head rolls back and forth, his mouth open. His tongue slips out to run over his reddening lips after every few pleas.
“Please, p-please, please, Eduard, Toris…”
Ivan presses his fingers against himself harder; he’d like nothing more than for Lithuania to press up against him in the way he does for Latvia. The delicate arch his back contorts into as he presses his bum against Latvia’s groin is nothing short of entrancing. The Russian can’t help but lick his cracked lips.
Estonia whispers something into Latvia’s ear, makes the boy bite his lip and clench his eyes shut. Ivan can imagine the boy’s pants are starting to feel uncomfortably tight, as he wriggles and gently tips his hips forwards against Lithuania, and back against Estonia. The boy is what Ukraine would classify as ‘practically skin and bones’ - nothing like Ivan’s meaty form - but his body is beautiful, all pale shades and soft to the touch. Ivan wishes to nibble at the hip bones peeking out from underneath the boy’s maroon pants.
He doesn’t allow himself to dwell on that fantasy for long. Instead his eyes regard Estonia.
He can’t tell - and Ivan won’t risk being found out by attempting to sneak into the house - if Estonia’s glasses have fogged yet, though his face, neck and shoulders are as pink as his brothers’ soft cheeks. Lithuania’s talking to him, whispering again, his bare feet rubbing against the blonde’s smooth back slowly, from side to side. Estonia’s nodding, his hands cupping each side of Latvia’s hips as he rubs himself against the boy’s ass. He leans across his brothers, kissing each one on the cheek before he moves to kneel beside them.
Latvia rolls from Lithuania’s back moments later, opposite Estonia, his lips red and puffy. They’re claimed in a gentle kiss a millisecond later. Ivan almost chuckles as the two younger nations wobble like buoys in a temperamental ocean because of it. It seems the experience has their worlds spinning. He wishes he was in Lithuania’s position, beneath them both.
Ivan sighs and cups himself gently as they shift and Lithuania’s strong hand reaches for Estonia’s pants. His finger tips slide beneath the pea green material, causing Estonia to gasp as they rub against his hip, the top of his ass and dip into his cleft. He’s clinging to Latvia (who’s framed Estonia’s face with his smaller hands), groaning as Lithuania explores deeper. Latvia rains soft kisses against his face, smooths his hair rearranges his glasses. Soon Estonia is shuddering, his pants around his knees and Lithuania’s lips on his ass.
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