Re: Aurora Borealis "Pulse" 1/?
anonymous
May 2 2009, 06:39:10 UTC
Matt was only slightly buzzed, just enough to take the edge off the cold and make his world softer. He stared, enraptured by the plums of breath from his lips and realized he was tuning Ivan out.
“...but if you keep drinking all of the vodka, there won’t be any for tomorrow. Unless you feel willing to share your whisky?” Ivan asked, smile brighter in the moonlight. Matthew gazed at him for a second, then nodded serenely and put the bottle down between them.
“The lights should start any minute now, we’ve been out here for two hours,” He said. Lying on his back beside the Russian wasn’t how he pictured his Friday nights, but it was the rare time they could both relax. Their countries had no major tensions, even with Alfred so close to Matt. And the arctic sky couldn’t have been an inkier shade of black, only marred with white flecks of far away worlds with their own winters and Ivan’s and snow. He exhaled again, this time pushing some hair from his face. What were they talking about again?
“No rush,” the Russian yawned, stretching beside him, “We’ve both been out in winter far longer than this before, right?” It was weird, but lying beside him, he didn’t seem so tall. It seemed less acceptable then, to affectionately lay his hand on the other man’s shoulder.
“It’s better than the summer - all the allergies, the noise of the city. At least out here it can get quiet, and dark.” He said lightly.
“You, ah, are not fond of summer?” The tone reminded him of a socially awkward robot left out in the rain, and that made him giggle loudly.
“I’m fond of it, but that doesn’t mean I always miss it.” Alcohol was nice, he decided. Civility was easier than he expected- and combined with their closeness, the light flush across Ivan’s nose, he could pretend everything would be this easy between them. Matt realized he was staring again and turned away, back to looking at the sky while Ivan laughed at him.
“Da, but there is nothing major you miss from summer?” He asked quickly, propping himself up on elbow to look down at Matt, who was sneakily reaching for the vodka again.
“Mostly I miss having the quiet, actually.” Reaching for the last bit of vodka turned out to be a mistake when he nearly overbalanced into a patch of ice. Ivan caught his shoulder to steady him, the grip firm but reassuring around his arm.
"You,” Ivan said, “are drunk, aren’t you?”
"Certainly not," Matt replied while rebalancing himself. "Canadians never get tanked, they just get tipsy.”
Ivan laughed again, a low sound against Matt’s ear which reminded him rather forcibly that he had not moved away and that their clothing did nothing to subdue the electricity of contact. He looked over his shoulder, concentrating on shadowed violet eyes and a set jaw. Ivan was still smiling and it was unnerving, he thought distantly, amazing and impossible as it was, but Ivan yearned for something more and Matt really want to give back.
Re: Aurora Borealis "Pulse" 2/2
anonymous
May 2 2009, 07:02:59 UTC
“Ivan? I’m okay now, you can let go,” Matt murmured. Ivan didn’t let go, and normally he would appreciate a person that spirited but he was starting to feel claustrophobic in the open land. Ivan’s smile curved wide like a gash while the other hand snaked around to ease the Canadian into lying down again. Of course he thought about pushing him away, but he stopped himself - who would ever need to know? He was young, this could be what he really wanted, so what if people would disapprove? While his coat was being made short work of by skilled, gloved hands, he had to keep stopping himself from telling Ivan to stop.
The cold almost drained him of any desire, but he unbuttoned Ivan’s pale coat and pulled him chest to chest to share their warmth.
“One of these days, I will find you in your office and drag you out with me for good.” Ivan said, his eyes almost deepened to black and mouth barely a hand’s breadth from his own.
“You know, I don’t need to be rescued,” he arched, leaning into the touch as fingers danced under the small of his back to support him. The kiss banished his anxiety, his racing panic, as some form of friendly violence he was never familiar with. The distraction of it and how their mouths joined made it easy to strip material away and bare flesh. Goosebumps at first, but coerced away with flat palms and hot kisses. He found himself almost obsessed with the idea of unzipping, yanking off until he had all access to the expanse of skin. Finally, he felt the pressure of pubic bone against hip and smiled into Ivan’s neck. From good to perfect.
The hands returned to tug at him, and Matt blushed realizing that he was already melting - not wet or slippery or greasy, but melted - soft and smooth like ice cream left outside in the heat. Each twist of hand pulled a sound he hardly even knew was trapped. He sat up a little, opening his legs wider to get closer.
“Y-you can - please, Ivan-” He curved his wrist to the sweaty nape of Ivan’s neck, tilting his chin back open up his neck.
When he saw it: the sky, alive and thrumming with colour. It stretched from horizon to horizon, curving and twisting like a river. He tried to get the Russian’s attention, get his attention away from the hidden shadows of warmth between them.
“L-look, it’s what we waited for,” that sounded wrong, but it had the desired effect. Ivan looked up with a sudden focused intensity, hair matted with against his temples and open mouthed - by far a more arresting sight than the sky.
“Da, I know. I see.”
“But you didn’t even look.” Another turn of fingers; Matt’s body was being lit, burning in the cold.
“I saw them, in your eyes. More beautiful.”
He was shaking, coming undone while his body finally seemed to come to life. Ivan hooked his knee over his shoulder and pushed deeper, his insides stretched open, rooted out. The rolling motion against his coat had him clawing at the broad shoulders and his hips twitching in a familiar rhythm. He had gotten to know the base-relief of his cock, and the exact, utmost length within me his fingers could go; things he never wanted to forget. Faster and deeper he moved as if on a ship, hands searching him for warm spaces to reach into, feel the glide against his skin, giving himself over and over to the waves when suddenly it happened and he rose back to the surface.
Lying safely warmed by arms and a blanket of coat, they both watched the sky’s private light dance. It’s was hard not to melt into Ivan’s arm, safe and nestled here. For once in his life, he felt exquisitely desirable.
“Our people used to believe the lights were spirits, coming to talk to us and guide us,” He intoned, hushed while he traced a pattern on Ivan’s knuckles.
“Can you still hear them? What do they say?”
Matt twisted his neck to look back at Ivan, pushing some hair out of his eyes.
“Well, they’re saying I’m mostly a nutcase. But they’re asking me to listen.” The Russian's mouth twitched, trying not to be amused and failing. Matt sniffed and turning back to the sky. “Well, there’s always room for more learning. But never outside without a fire, okay?” ________
“...but if you keep drinking all of the vodka, there won’t be any for tomorrow. Unless you feel willing to share your whisky?” Ivan asked, smile brighter in the moonlight. Matthew gazed at him for a second, then nodded serenely and put the bottle down between them.
“The lights should start any minute now, we’ve been out here for two hours,” He said. Lying on his back beside the Russian wasn’t how he pictured his Friday nights, but it was the rare time they could both relax. Their countries had no major tensions, even with Alfred so close to Matt. And the arctic sky couldn’t have been an inkier shade of black, only marred with white flecks of far away worlds with their own winters and Ivan’s and snow. He exhaled again, this time pushing some hair from his face. What were they talking about again?
“No rush,” the Russian yawned, stretching beside him, “We’ve both been out in winter far longer than this before, right?” It was weird, but lying beside him, he didn’t seem so tall. It seemed less acceptable then, to affectionately lay his hand on the other man’s shoulder.
“It’s better than the summer - all the allergies, the noise of the city. At least out here it can get quiet, and dark.” He said lightly.
“You, ah, are not fond of summer?” The tone reminded him of a socially awkward robot left out in the rain, and that made him giggle loudly.
“I’m fond of it, but that doesn’t mean I always miss it.” Alcohol was nice, he decided. Civility was easier than he expected- and combined with their closeness, the light flush across Ivan’s nose, he could pretend everything would be this easy between them. Matt realized he was staring again and turned away, back to looking at the sky while Ivan laughed at him.
“Da, but there is nothing major you miss from summer?” He asked quickly, propping himself up on elbow to look down at Matt, who was sneakily reaching for the vodka again.
“Mostly I miss having the quiet, actually.” Reaching for the last bit of vodka turned out to be a mistake when he nearly overbalanced into a patch of ice. Ivan caught his shoulder to steady him, the grip firm but reassuring around his arm.
"You,” Ivan said, “are drunk, aren’t you?”
"Certainly not," Matt replied while rebalancing himself. "Canadians never get tanked, they just get tipsy.”
Ivan laughed again, a low sound against Matt’s ear which reminded him rather forcibly that he had not moved away and that their clothing did nothing to subdue the electricity of contact. He looked over his shoulder, concentrating on shadowed violet eyes and a set jaw. Ivan was still smiling and it was unnerving, he thought distantly, amazing and impossible as it was, but Ivan yearned for something more and Matt really want to give back.
This called for drastic measures.
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The cold almost drained him of any desire, but he unbuttoned Ivan’s pale coat and pulled him chest to chest to share their warmth.
“One of these days, I will find you in your office and drag you out with me for good.” Ivan said, his eyes almost deepened to black and mouth barely a hand’s breadth from his own.
“You know, I don’t need to be rescued,” he arched, leaning into the touch as fingers danced under the small of his back to support him. The kiss banished his anxiety, his racing panic, as some form of friendly violence he was never familiar with. The distraction of it and how their mouths joined made it easy to strip material away and bare flesh. Goosebumps at first, but coerced away with flat palms and hot kisses. He found himself almost obsessed with the idea of unzipping, yanking off until he had all access to the expanse of skin. Finally, he felt the pressure of pubic bone against hip and smiled into Ivan’s neck. From good to perfect.
The hands returned to tug at him, and Matt blushed realizing that he was already melting - not wet or slippery or greasy, but melted - soft and smooth like ice cream left outside in the heat. Each twist of hand pulled a sound he hardly even knew was trapped. He sat up a little, opening his legs wider to get closer.
“Y-you can - please, Ivan-” He curved his wrist to the sweaty nape of Ivan’s neck, tilting his chin back open up his neck.
When he saw it: the sky, alive and thrumming with colour. It stretched from horizon to horizon, curving and twisting like a river. He tried to get the Russian’s attention, get his attention away from the hidden shadows of warmth between them.
“L-look, it’s what we waited for,” that sounded wrong, but it had the desired effect. Ivan looked up with a sudden focused intensity, hair matted with against his temples and open mouthed - by far a more arresting sight than the sky.
“Da, I know. I see.”
“But you didn’t even look.” Another turn of fingers; Matt’s body was being lit, burning in the cold.
“I saw them, in your eyes. More beautiful.”
He was shaking, coming undone while his body finally seemed to come to life. Ivan hooked his knee over his shoulder and pushed deeper, his insides stretched open, rooted out. The rolling motion against his coat had him clawing at the broad shoulders and his hips twitching in a familiar rhythm. He had gotten to know the base-relief of his cock, and the exact, utmost length within me his fingers could go; things he never wanted to forget. Faster and deeper he moved as if on a ship, hands searching him for warm spaces to reach into, feel the glide against his skin, giving himself over and over to the waves when suddenly it happened and he rose back to the surface.
Lying safely warmed by arms and a blanket of coat, they both watched the sky’s private light dance. It’s was hard not to melt into Ivan’s arm, safe and nestled here. For once in his life, he felt exquisitely desirable.
“Our people used to believe the lights were spirits, coming to talk to us and guide us,” He intoned, hushed while he traced a pattern on Ivan’s knuckles.
“Can you still hear them? What do they say?”
Matt twisted his neck to look back at Ivan, pushing some hair out of his eyes.
“Well, they’re saying I’m mostly a nutcase. But they’re asking me to listen.” The Russian's mouth twitched, trying not to be amused and failing. Matt sniffed and turning back to the sky. “Well, there’s always room for more learning. But never outside without a fire, okay?”
________
....OP, er. I hope you like. If not, I'm sorry?
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“I saw them, in your eyes. More beautiful.” omg... That is the most romantic thing I've ever heard *cries tears of unworthiness*
XDD I really enjoyed reading it
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I'm glad you like~
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OH MY GOD
YES
oh lawds, that made me laugh
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this is wonderful author!anon
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“I saw them, in your eyes. More beautiful.”
I think you just made me fall in love with Ivan OTL
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Ah, that was marvelous. You've got a very nice, vivid writing style. The mental images it created were quite pleasant.
Thank you for the awesome read!
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Thanks! <3
captcha: loving psycho. R-really, captacha? Really?
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