Strawberry Red, Skywalker Blue (2/6)
anonymous
August 19 2010, 07:57:25 UTC
America, Russia was sure, must have a severe allergy to the word 'love,' to be as careful with it as he was. Given the horrible liberties America took with just about every other word, grammatical construction, and verbal convention of the English language, the only possible explanation for his behavior around 'love' was that if America ever used the word in a way he didn't mean, his throat would close up, his face would turn blue, and he'd convulse on the floor like a dying trout until someone gave him a really big shot of steroids. . . . which, actually, now that Russia thought of it, had been kind of what America had looked like at Mexico's party, when someone told him what was actually in that bottle of tequila he'd been trying to chug.
Surely he could have used the word otherwise. Russia knew perfectly well that America wasn't going to make any real commitment to him--not after everything they'd been through--so it wasn't as if Russia would hold America accountable for any endearments he happened to use while they were together. Especially if there was no one else there to overhear them.
"Well, anyway, we might as well have some fun," America said. He got up to put the champagne in the mini-fridge, and on his way back, he snaked an arm around Russia's waist without warning, leaning in to whisper "We do have this place all night. . . "
Russia didn't need another hint. He twisted around, found America's thigh with his hand, and America's mouth with his own, and pulled him in for a long, involved kiss. America pressed eagerly against him, arm tightening, and ran his tongue along Russia's teeth. Nipping gently at that oh-so-skillful tongue, Russia shifted his hand to grip the sensitive place right where America's thigh met his round, firm buttock, and squeezed. America gasped and arched his back, straining his shoulders against Russia's other hand.
After that, they couldn't be bothered with staying upright. They sprawled onto the soft bedspread, kissing, touching, and holding one another with that hunger that only comes from deprivation. The effort of maintaining indifference and disdain in public was devastating to both of them. It was worse even than the years of open hostility; at least then, they hadn't had to watch one another longingly across the table at G8, trying to milk every ounce of intimacy out of the careless glances that were all the eye contact they could let the other nations see them make.
Soon, Russia had thrown America's T-shirt off one side of the bed, and America had thrown Russia's wool dress trousers off the other. Russia finally got rid of those obstructive jeans of America's (nice soft fabric, though--he'd have to ask for a pair next Christmas) and America took great pleasure in popping every single button off of Russia's blue dress shirt in the process of removing it. America had Russia's nipple in his mouth when he remembered about the gels.
"Ah. . ." Russia gasped as America's teeth brushed his erect nipple. Then America pulled away. "Sto . . . ?"
"We have toys! Well, gels."
America fumbled on the bedside table, and chose the 'Scrumptious Strawberry Kiwi' gel. He popped open the packet and slathered it on his lips. Russia laughed. America looked like a kid who'd been eating a cherry Popsicle-badly.
"Alfred, you look-"
"Ravishing?" America said, batting his eyelashes and puckering his lips melodramatically. "I always did love a bit of lip gloss. . ."
Russia stopped his mouth with a long kiss. Then it was his turn to pull away, lips tingling from the odd, chemical taste of the gel.
"Bleah, what is this stuff?"
America pulled a face of his own.
"Well, the package made it sound good."
"You shouldn't believe everything you read," Russia said dryly, as they used Russia's poor shirt to wipe the goop off their lips and tongues.
Strawberry Red, Skywalker Blue (3/6)
anonymous
August 19 2010, 08:00:15 UTC
America threw it all out-even the unopened packages-without a second's regret-Russia lay back on the bed, momentarily breathless with the sheer waste of it. Worthless as the gel was, no one in his country would have thought to throw out unopened packages without even trying them--well, no one who remembered the old days. America climbed back on top of Russia, holding a handful of condoms, splayed out like a bouquet.
"On to the next thing?"
"Da, da," Russia said, slipping a hand into the waistband of America's boxers. "But you're going to have to take these off first."
"And you-" but then America felt Russia's erection against his leg and laughed. "-you've already taken your briefs off. When?"
"Never turn your back on a Russian," Russia said, grinning. America bit Russia's lip, then, still laughing, while Russia pulled his boxers down. America helpfully shimmied his hips until they were around his knees, then bent his legs--the feel of America's knee rubbing against Russia's thigh made him gasp--and kicked the boxers off onto the floor. Russia growled against America's neck and rolled over on top of him.
"Now, you said something about condoms, da?"
America rifled through the sheaf in his hand. There were flavored condoms--cinnamon, mint 'tinglez,' banana--colored condoms, ribbed condoms, several different sizes. . . and several glow-in-the-dark condoms. America's eyes lit up.
"These!"
"All-right-Russia said, taking one dubiously. Are these-safe?" he asked, thinking of radium watch dials. He knew there were some things that glowed harmlessly, but. . .
"Completely safe," America said, sounding injured. "They use some kind of light-reactive polymer or something. Come on, Russkie, lighten up." He giggled at the pun, and Russia couldn't help laughing, too. He unrolled the condom and put it on.
"Oh, oh, hold on. . ." America said, and jumped up to turn off the light. "Whoaaa!!! That is soooo coool. . . oh my God, I want one."
Russia looked down. His partly-hardened cock now had a series of glowing rings along it--like the stripes on a raccoon's tail. America fumbled in the dark for one of the glowing condoms and ripped it open to hastily put one on his own--rather larger-cock.
"Oh, man, stripes!" Russia could see America hardening a little from sheer glee. "But hold on, hold on-we can make these brighter." America went over to his bag and suddenly Russia saw a blinding flash.
"Argh! Sto--"
"Hey, relax, America said, sitting back on the bed with him. He flicked on a flashlight and handed Russia something small and flat. Under the flashlight's light, Russia could see that it was a Polaroid1 picture of his own cock. He looked at America, surprised. He hadn't thought-
"No, no, look down!"
Russia did. Charged up by the flash, the condom was now glowing much more consistently. He saw another flash, and looked over to find that America's cock was also glowing brighter and more evenly.
Strawberry Red, Skywalker Blue (4/6)
anonymous
August 19 2010, 08:04:43 UTC
"Russkie-" America said, looking at their glowing cocks "-are you thinking what I'm thinking?"
Russia wasn't sure. He was looking at cocks. This was good, yes, but-America leaned down to stroke his tongue teasingly along Russia's glowing cock. Aahhh. . . better. . . then. to Russia's disappointment, America pulled away, leaving Russia's cock harder. And then Russia got it.
"It's like-a lightsaber-"
Then Russia flushed with embarrassment. The Star Wars movies were not something he was supposed to like. But it had been the right answer, because America was laughing, clapping him on the back, and making 'zhwinggg' noises as he waved his cock around. It was hard to be unhappy when America was like this. Soon, Russia was making zhwinggg noises of his own, and they were fencing-well, fencing as well as it is possible to fence when you are never more than a foot from your opponent. There was a significant amount of kissing involved.
"You know," America said breathlessly, "it would be great if these things glowed different colors. Blue for me, red for you."
"But red is evil, da?" Russia said, not sure how he felt about this.
"Well, I mean-Darth Vader wasn't all bad. . ." America said, running his hand through Russia's hair. Russia shook his head.
"I know what your people thought of mine."
They had been the 'evil empire,' and Emperor Palpatine had seemed no worse to Americans than Kruschev, Andropov, or Chernenkov, and almost certainly better than Stalin. Perhaps, he thought sourly, Gorbachev had been like Darth Vader-good at the end, even if he had been bad all the rest of the time. Russia flopped back on the bed, suddenly no longer feeling interested in sex. Hell, Reagan had even come up with a defense plan called 'Star Wars,' designed expressly to keep Russia's people in check.
"Awww, come on Russkie, don't be like that," America whined, running a finger around Russia's nipple. "I didn't mean anything by it, I just thought. . ."
Russia sighed.
"Da, da, I know. You didn't mean any harm. You are so young. You don't know what it feels like to have--well, to remember empires. To remember men in long cloaks who told other men to die."
Russia thought of Darth Vader standing in front of his own council, raising one hand and taking the breath of an opponent. Effortlessly. For a man to have such power--any man--or a nation. . . to have such power and to use it. . . America's breath was warm on his face as he leaned over Russia, invisible in the dark. He smelled of strawberries, cola, and clean sweat.
Strawberry Red, Skywalker Blue (5/6)
anonymous
August 19 2010, 08:05:49 UTC
"No, but I remember men who sent boys to hot places, too young to drink cold beer--or champagne."
America thought of Endor-of young men fighting in jungles while old men waited in icy metal bunkers and space stations; of alien peoples fighting and dying for a conflict they did not understand. He thought of a boy losing his own hand to keep from having to fight; thought of how he wound up fighting anyway.
"Alfred, that was--" Russia shook his head. "You didn't mean that any more than any of us did. It was a mistake. It was--too much power, in the wrong places. The wrong times. And-it was a long time ago."
"In a galaxy far, far away?" Russia could hear the smile in America's voice. "It was less than twenty years ago. I thought you were the one with a long memory."
"Well, it was certainly far away," Russia said. "Far away from your people. A little closer to mine, I think."
There was an ocean between Saigon and America; but it was nowhere near that far from Russia's heartland, and it had been even closer before Gorbachev removed the mask and let the Empire breathe its last. Russia thought he knew how that felt-how it felt to be unmasked, to lie breathless, pockmarked face exposed to the world, and to have moments-mere moments-to say the most important words in the world. How it felt to lie helpless while the future looked at you with clear blue eyes, smiling, and asked about the dark times-the times you hoped, you prayed he would never know.
"But you weren't all bad, Vanya," America whispered. "Not then, not ever. You were hard, yes, and dark, and larger than life. You were terrifying. But you drove a boy to the stars, and you let him fly. You told him the truth; and when he could not fight any more, you fought for him, and you saved his life. You destroyed the evil that would have killed him--and when you did, you destroyed the evil in yourself."
Russia felt lips brush his cheek, kiss his temple; and then he felt the warmth of America's cheek nestling into his hair.
"Do you--really think this?" he said, voice thick with emotion.
"Yes," America said into his hair. "I do. I don't care if everyone else thinks you're a villain, I don't. I think you're a hero. And I love you."
Strawberry Red, Skywalker Blue (6/6)
anonymous
August 19 2010, 08:06:48 UTC
Russia didn't answer. He couldn't speak. He just wrapped his arms around America so tightly he felt both of their ribs creak, and pressed his cheek into the hollow of America's throat, eyes smarting. When he finally raised a hand to his lover's face, he was stunned to find America's cheek wet with tears.
"Are you--"
"I'm not crying," America said with great dignity. "I just-got-lube in my eye. Both of my eyes." He sniffled quietly. "Please, Vanya, don't-don't go being all distant to spare me, or something. I want you. I want you badly enough to drive out into the middle of nowhere, drink bad champagne, sleep in a sketchy motel room, and get a mouthful of that awful gel stuff just so I can have you all to myself for one night. Twelve measly hours."
". . . oh."
Russia couldn't think of anything else to say, so instead he rolled over a little so they were side by side and stroked America's hair. Gently, with just a little tongue, he began kissing the salty tears off America's face.
"Don't cry for me, little one," he said when his words returned. "I am old and bitter, and I will be old and bitter forever, but that does not mean I am unhappy, da? I cannot be unhappy when you are with me, because you are so-so-"
"Refreshing?" America suggested.
"Enthusiastic," Russia said, and since he could tell America was cheering up again, added, "and silly."
"Am not!" America protested.
"Are too," Russia said, according to the age-old formula.
"Am not!"
"Are too."
"Am-oh, fine. Maybe I am. But we're doing lightsabers again."
And little by little they stroked and kissed one another hard again, and started fencing, until America said:
"All right, come on. Say it. We can't have sex until you do."
"Say what?"
"Say, 'Luke, I am your-'" America prompted, and then Russia finished the quote.
"Luke, I am your father!"
"No... that's not true! That's impossible!"
"Search your feelings. You know it to be true."
"Nooooo!!!"
"Join me, and together we can rule the galaxy. . ."
And then they were both laughing too hard to speak; and within moments, they were beyond speech altogether. They were Vanya and Alfred, America and Russia, Luke and Vader, together and alone; and far, far away from anyone-and everyone-who could ask them to stop.
Strawberry Red, Skywalker Blue (endnotes)
anonymous
August 19 2010, 09:13:27 UTC
Author!anon's notes:
Housing: Somehow, in spite of Russia's immense territory, Russians throughout history have suffered from chronic housing shortages. Even in the country, where there is plenty of space, entire families of impoverished serfs often lived in the same, tiny house.
'The stores are better in America': Soviet housewives used to stand in line for hours to buy whatever was available-usually, not much. An anecdote often repeated on the subject runs as follows: "A Soviet leader visits America. He is taken to a supermarket-an average U.S. grocery store. Seeing that there are not only 2, or 3, but dozens of different varieties of each product, he says to his guide, 'It's a good thing the people back home can't see this. If they ever found out, I'd have a revolution on my hands.'”
Champagne at the gas station: author!anon has never purchased champagne at a gas station, but can verify that 7-11 carries it at many locations.
Strawberries: often an index of economic shortage/luxury. In the film 'Soylent Green,' a small jar of strawberries was said to cost $150. Since the film was made in 1973, that's actually more like $750 in 2010 dollars. This is not new: in the 1891 novel 'Tess of the D'Urbervilles,' the titular (lower-class) heroine is given fresh strawberries by her (wealthy) seducer.
'real champagne': Technically 'champagne' is an 'appelation controlee,' meaning that it's not 'champagne' unless it's from the Champagne region. The increase in popularity of Californian sparkling wines has caused some controversy about whether American companies should be able to use the term 'champagne' in labeling. This has been much more of an issue recently than it would have been 1993-5.
'shot of steroids': Epinephrine is not technically steroids; however, Russia might associate steroids with America.
America's boxers: necessary due to a 90s men's fashion that involved wearing baggy jeans belted low enough to show significant amounts of undergarment. This could not be done in an even remotely attractive manner with briefs.
Radium watch dials: Radium was actually taken out of most glow-in-the-dark paint in the US by the 40s. This may not have been the case in the USSR; mostly, this detail is a shout-out to the general nuclear paranoia of the Cold War.
'the evil empire': the Soviet Union actually was referred to in this way
Kruschev, Andropov, and Chernenkov: The three leaders that immediately followed Stalin-who were in turn followed by Gorbachev.
Gorbachev: The last Soviet leader-his policy of 'glasnost' (opening) led to the end of the Soviet Union in 1991.
'not supposed to like Star Wars': during Soviet years, one did not admit to liking US culture. Even Stalin himself couldn't admit that he liked John Wayne's films, because they were anti-Communist. (Star Wars IV, V, and VI came out in 1977, 1980, and 1983 respectively, at the height of Soviet power.)
'Star Wars' missile defense system: essentially a system of lasers that were supposed to shoot missiles out of the sky(it was also known as the 'strategic defense initiative'). It was never built.
'too much power. . .': the USSR gave weapons to the Viet Cong, and to many other Communist or Communist-friendly groups during the Cold War, even when there was no 'official' Soviet involvement; the U.S. did the same for anti-Communist groups. This increased bloodshed in conflicts that might have been quicker or smaller-scale without outside intervention, particularly when there was intervention on both sides of a conflict.
'alien peoples': It's unclear why the Ewoks were involved in the fight between the Empire and the Rebels.
'twenty years': Wikipedia dates the end of the Vietnam war at 1975.
'you drove a boy to the stars, and you let him fly': This refers, in part, to the Cold-War-driven space race; to JFK, the youngest elected president, who had a large part in getting America to the stars, and also to the fact that without Vader, without the Empire, and without Vader's acknowledgment of Luke as his son and a worthy opponent, Luke would have stayed on Tatooine forever.
'You destroyed the evil . . .': It was Vader who killed Palpatine, and thus destroyed the Empire-just as the Soviet Union fell not from external pressure, but from its own change of heart.
Re: Strawberry Red, Skywalker Blue (endnotes)
anonymous
August 19 2010, 10:34:15 UTC
Oh my god. This is one of the best Russiamerica fills I have ever read. ;___; I am a huge Star Wars nerd and I have a massive weakness for playful!sex. The "Luke, I am your father" part absolutely killed me, and I somehow didn't care one bit that we didn't get to see the actual sex. THAT is the sign of an awesome fic - it's about sex but doesn't need the sex itself to make it awesome. (If you had written the sex, I'd probably be too overwhelmed to write anything coherent. Lol.)
Re: Strawberry Red, Skywalker Blue (endnotes)
anonymous
August 19 2010, 11:43:57 UTC
Pffffffft, this is fantastic on every possible level. It's like 75% hilarity, 20% d'awww, and 5% sexy. :DDD
And this? "I'm not crying," America said with great dignity. "I just-got-lube in my eye. Both of my eyes." He sniffled quietly. FFFFF AMERICA WHY SUCH A DUDE?
Anon, you are seriously fabulous. May I have your illegitimate children so the state can support them in our new socialist utopia? Y/Y?
Re: Strawberry Red, Skywalker Blue (endnotes)
anonymous
August 19 2010, 17:45:55 UTC
Oh lord light saber cocks and Star Wars quotes in bed. What is this I don't even.
And then the emotional part and more light saber cocks.
I laughed so hard, anon.
(Hey, with your author's notes, don't put corresponding numbers in the text of the story. It's distracting. Just post the separate author's notes and let people come to their own conclusions.)
I AM SO IN LOVE WITH THIS YOU WOULDN'T BELIEVE IT
anonymous
August 21 2010, 13:48:28 UTC
MOST PERFECT FIC EVER
ashfjhvjrndvufuf I HAVE NO WORDS TO MAKE THIS JUSTICE. IT'S PERFECT. IT'S ABSOLUTELY FUCKING BLOODY PERFECT IN EVEYR LITTLE DETAIL. Their playfulness, their banter, the in-jokes to their conflict and themselves, the way they turned into little kids when they put condoms on, for God's sake, the 'lightsaber fencing' battle (which might be the most brilliant scene in the meme), and god, all the comparisons, paralelisms, historical bits etc between Cold War and Star Wars. Fuck, but you're a genuis ♥ And that end, that sweet, sweet adorable end, beautiful in every possible way. I'm off to rec this like fucking crazy. You're amazing.
'you drove a boy to the stars, and you let him fly'
T-That is so-*sob* GORGEOUS <3 (I actually thought the 'boy' was meant to be America himself)
Also, can I ask you a question? Do you know if Star Wars was successful in Russia? I mean, even if you weren't supposed to like it, did people like it?
Re: I AM SO IN LOVE WITH THIS YOU WOULDN'T BELIEVE IT
anonymous
November 29 2010, 03:47:37 UTC
[Author!anon speaking]
Thank you, I'm glad you enjoyed the fic. ^_^;;;
Unfortunately, I don't know how the film was received in the Soviet Union. I could probably find the information somewhere, though; when I do, I'll let you know.
Re: Strawberry Red, Skywalker Blue (endnotes)
anonymous
November 18 2010, 06:42:36 UTC
This is the geekiest thing I've read in...dskjhgksa I don't even know how long. HOLY SHIT, WRITER!ANON, A-FUCKING-PLUS. This is a thing of beauty, JSYK.
Surely he could have used the word otherwise. Russia knew perfectly well that America wasn't going to make any real commitment to him--not after everything they'd been through--so it wasn't as if Russia would hold America accountable for any endearments he happened to use while they were together. Especially if there was no one else there to overhear them.
"Well, anyway, we might as well have some fun," America said. He got up to put the champagne in the mini-fridge, and on his way back, he snaked an arm around Russia's waist without warning, leaning in to whisper "We do have this place all night. . . "
Russia didn't need another hint. He twisted around, found America's thigh with his hand, and America's mouth with his own, and pulled him in for a long, involved kiss. America pressed eagerly against him, arm tightening, and ran his tongue along Russia's teeth. Nipping gently at that oh-so-skillful tongue, Russia shifted his hand to grip the sensitive place right where America's thigh met his round, firm buttock, and squeezed. America gasped and arched his back, straining his shoulders against Russia's other hand.
After that, they couldn't be bothered with staying upright. They sprawled onto the soft bedspread, kissing, touching, and holding one another with that hunger that only comes from deprivation. The effort of maintaining indifference and disdain in public was devastating to both of them. It was worse even than the years of open hostility; at least then, they hadn't had to watch one another longingly across the table at G8, trying to milk every ounce of intimacy out of the careless glances that were all the eye contact they could let the other nations see them make.
Soon, Russia had thrown America's T-shirt off one side of the bed, and America had thrown Russia's wool dress trousers off the other. Russia finally got rid of those obstructive jeans of America's (nice soft fabric, though--he'd have to ask for a pair next Christmas) and America took great pleasure in popping every single button off of Russia's blue dress shirt in the process of removing it. America had Russia's nipple in his mouth when he remembered about the gels.
"Ah. . ." Russia gasped as America's teeth brushed his erect nipple. Then America pulled away. "Sto . . . ?"
"We have toys! Well, gels."
America fumbled on the bedside table, and chose the 'Scrumptious Strawberry Kiwi' gel. He popped open the packet and slathered it on his lips. Russia laughed. America looked like a kid who'd been eating a cherry Popsicle-badly.
"Alfred, you look-"
"Ravishing?" America said, batting his eyelashes and puckering his lips melodramatically. "I always did love a bit of lip gloss. . ."
Russia stopped his mouth with a long kiss. Then it was his turn to pull away, lips tingling from the odd, chemical taste of the gel.
"Bleah, what is this stuff?"
America pulled a face of his own.
"Well, the package made it sound good."
"You shouldn't believe everything you read," Russia said dryly, as they used Russia's poor shirt to wipe the goop off their lips and tongues.
"Well, never mind the gel. It was worth a try."
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"On to the next thing?"
"Da, da," Russia said, slipping a hand into the waistband of America's boxers. "But you're going to have to take these off first."
"And you-" but then America felt Russia's erection against his leg and laughed. "-you've already taken your briefs off. When?"
"Never turn your back on a Russian," Russia said, grinning. America bit Russia's lip, then, still laughing, while Russia pulled his boxers down. America helpfully shimmied his hips until they were around his knees, then bent his legs--the feel of America's knee rubbing against Russia's thigh made him gasp--and kicked the boxers off onto the floor. Russia growled against America's neck and rolled over on top of him.
"Now, you said something about condoms, da?"
America rifled through the sheaf in his hand. There were flavored condoms--cinnamon, mint 'tinglez,' banana--colored condoms, ribbed condoms, several different sizes. . . and several glow-in-the-dark condoms. America's eyes lit up.
"These!"
"All-right-Russia said, taking one dubiously. Are these-safe?" he asked, thinking of radium watch dials. He knew there were some things that glowed harmlessly, but. . .
"Completely safe," America said, sounding injured. "They use some kind of light-reactive polymer or something. Come on, Russkie, lighten up." He giggled at the pun, and Russia couldn't help laughing, too. He unrolled the condom and put it on.
"Oh, oh, hold on. . ." America said, and jumped up to turn off the light. "Whoaaa!!! That is soooo coool. . . oh my God, I want one."
Russia looked down. His partly-hardened cock now had a series of glowing rings along it--like the stripes on a raccoon's tail. America fumbled in the dark for one of the glowing condoms and ripped it open to hastily put one on his own--rather larger-cock.
"Oh, man, stripes!" Russia could see America hardening a little from sheer glee. "But hold on, hold on-we can make these brighter." America went over to his bag and suddenly Russia saw a blinding flash.
"Argh! Sto--"
"Hey, relax, America said, sitting back on the bed with him. He flicked on a flashlight and handed Russia something small and flat. Under the flashlight's light, Russia could see that it was a Polaroid1 picture of his own cock. He looked at America, surprised. He hadn't thought-
"No, no, look down!"
Russia did. Charged up by the flash, the condom was now glowing much more consistently. He saw another flash, and looked over to find that America's cock was also glowing brighter and more evenly.
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Russia wasn't sure. He was looking at cocks. This was good, yes, but-America leaned down to stroke his tongue teasingly along Russia's glowing cock. Aahhh. . . better. . . then. to Russia's disappointment, America pulled away, leaving Russia's cock harder. And then Russia got it.
"It's like-a lightsaber-"
Then Russia flushed with embarrassment. The Star Wars movies were not something he was supposed to like. But it had been the right answer, because America was laughing, clapping him on the back, and making 'zhwinggg' noises as he waved his cock around. It was hard to be unhappy when America was like this. Soon, Russia was making zhwinggg noises of his own, and they were fencing-well, fencing as well as it is possible to fence when you are never more than a foot from your opponent. There was a significant amount of kissing involved.
"You know," America said breathlessly, "it would be great if these things glowed different colors. Blue for me, red for you."
"But red is evil, da?" Russia said, not sure how he felt about this.
"Well, I mean-Darth Vader wasn't all bad. . ." America said, running his hand through Russia's hair. Russia shook his head.
"I know what your people thought of mine."
They had been the 'evil empire,' and Emperor Palpatine had seemed no worse to Americans than Kruschev, Andropov, or Chernenkov, and almost certainly better than Stalin. Perhaps, he thought sourly, Gorbachev had been like Darth Vader-good at the end, even if he had been bad all the rest of the time. Russia flopped back on the bed, suddenly no longer feeling interested in sex. Hell, Reagan had even come up with a defense plan called 'Star Wars,' designed expressly to keep Russia's people in check.
"Awww, come on Russkie, don't be like that," America whined, running a finger around Russia's nipple. "I didn't mean anything by it, I just thought. . ."
Russia sighed.
"Da, da, I know. You didn't mean any harm. You are so young. You don't know what it feels like to have--well, to remember empires. To remember men in long cloaks who told other men to die."
Russia thought of Darth Vader standing in front of his own council, raising one hand and taking the breath of an opponent. Effortlessly. For a man to have such power--any man--or a nation. . . to have such power and to use it. . . America's breath was warm on his face as he leaned over Russia, invisible in the dark. He smelled of strawberries, cola, and clean sweat.
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America thought of Endor-of young men fighting in jungles while old men waited in icy metal bunkers and space stations; of alien peoples fighting and dying for a conflict they did not understand. He thought of a boy losing his own hand to keep from having to fight; thought of how he wound up fighting anyway.
"Alfred, that was--" Russia shook his head. "You didn't mean that any more than any of us did. It was a mistake. It was--too much power, in the wrong places. The wrong times. And-it was a long time ago."
"In a galaxy far, far away?" Russia could hear the smile in America's voice. "It was less than twenty years ago. I thought you were the one with a long memory."
"Well, it was certainly far away," Russia said. "Far away from your people. A little closer to mine, I think."
There was an ocean between Saigon and America; but it was nowhere near that far from Russia's heartland, and it had been even closer before Gorbachev removed the mask and let the Empire breathe its last. Russia thought he knew how that felt-how it felt to be unmasked, to lie breathless, pockmarked face exposed to the world, and to have moments-mere moments-to say the most important words in the world. How it felt to lie helpless while the future looked at you with clear blue eyes, smiling, and asked about the dark times-the times you hoped, you prayed he would never know.
"But you weren't all bad, Vanya," America whispered. "Not then, not ever. You were hard, yes, and dark, and larger than life. You were terrifying. But you drove a boy to the stars, and you let him fly. You told him the truth; and when he could not fight any more, you fought for him, and you saved his life. You destroyed the evil that would have killed him--and when you did, you destroyed the evil in yourself."
Russia felt lips brush his cheek, kiss his temple; and then he felt the warmth of America's cheek nestling into his hair.
"Do you--really think this?" he said, voice thick with emotion.
"Yes," America said into his hair. "I do. I don't care if everyone else thinks you're a villain, I don't. I think you're a hero. And I love you."
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"Are you--"
"I'm not crying," America said with great dignity. "I just-got-lube in my eye. Both of my eyes." He sniffled quietly. "Please, Vanya, don't-don't go being all distant to spare me, or something. I want you. I want you badly enough to drive out into the middle of nowhere, drink bad champagne, sleep in a sketchy motel room, and get a mouthful of that awful gel stuff just so I can have you all to myself for one night. Twelve measly hours."
". . . oh."
Russia couldn't think of anything else to say, so instead he rolled over a little so they were side by side and stroked America's hair. Gently, with just a little tongue, he began kissing the salty tears off America's face.
"Don't cry for me, little one," he said when his words returned. "I am old and bitter, and I will be old and bitter forever, but that does not mean I am unhappy, da? I cannot be unhappy when you are with me, because you are so-so-"
"Refreshing?" America suggested.
"Enthusiastic," Russia said, and since he could tell America was cheering up again, added, "and silly."
"Am not!" America protested.
"Are too," Russia said, according to the age-old formula.
"Am not!"
"Are too."
"Am-oh, fine. Maybe I am. But we're doing lightsabers again."
And little by little they stroked and kissed one another hard again, and started fencing, until America said:
"All right, come on. Say it. We can't have sex until you do."
"Say what?"
"Say, 'Luke, I am your-'" America prompted, and then Russia finished the quote.
"Luke, I am your father!"
"No... that's not true! That's impossible!"
"Search your feelings. You know it to be true."
"Nooooo!!!"
"Join me, and together we can rule the galaxy. . ."
And then they were both laughing too hard to speak; and within moments, they were beyond speech altogether. They were Vanya and Alfred, America and Russia, Luke and Vader, together and alone; and far, far away from anyone-and everyone-who could ask them to stop.
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Housing: Somehow, in spite of Russia's immense territory, Russians throughout history have suffered from chronic housing shortages. Even in the country, where there is plenty of space, entire families of impoverished serfs often lived in the same, tiny house.
'The stores are better in America': Soviet housewives used to stand in line for hours to buy whatever was available-usually, not much. An anecdote often repeated on the subject runs as follows: "A Soviet leader visits America. He is taken to a supermarket-an average U.S. grocery store. Seeing that there are not only 2, or 3, but dozens of different varieties of each product, he says to his guide, 'It's a good thing the people back home can't see this. If they ever found out, I'd have a revolution on my hands.'”
Champagne at the gas station: author!anon has never purchased champagne at a gas station, but can verify that 7-11 carries it at many locations.
Strawberries: often an index of economic shortage/luxury. In the film 'Soylent Green,' a small jar of strawberries was said to cost $150. Since the film was made in 1973, that's actually more like $750 in 2010 dollars. This is not new: in the 1891 novel 'Tess of the D'Urbervilles,' the titular (lower-class) heroine is given fresh strawberries by her (wealthy) seducer.
'real champagne': Technically 'champagne' is an 'appelation controlee,' meaning that it's not 'champagne' unless it's from the Champagne region. The increase in popularity of Californian sparkling wines has caused some controversy about whether American companies should be able to use the term 'champagne' in labeling. This has been much more of an issue recently than it would have been 1993-5.
'shot of steroids': Epinephrine is not technically steroids; however, Russia might associate steroids with America.
America's boxers: necessary due to a 90s men's fashion that involved wearing baggy jeans belted low enough to show significant amounts of undergarment. This could not be done in an even remotely attractive manner with briefs.
Radium watch dials: Radium was actually taken out of most glow-in-the-dark paint in the US by the 40s. This may not have been the case in the USSR; mostly, this detail is a shout-out to the general nuclear paranoia of the Cold War.
'the evil empire': the Soviet Union actually was referred to in this way
Kruschev, Andropov, and Chernenkov: The three leaders that immediately followed Stalin-who were in turn followed by Gorbachev.
Gorbachev: The last Soviet leader-his policy of 'glasnost' (opening) led to the end of the Soviet Union in 1991.
'not supposed to like Star Wars': during Soviet years, one did not admit to liking US culture. Even Stalin himself couldn't admit that he liked John Wayne's films, because they were anti-Communist. (Star Wars IV, V, and VI came out in 1977, 1980, and 1983 respectively, at the height of Soviet power.)
'Star Wars' missile defense system: essentially a system of lasers that were supposed to shoot missiles out of the sky(it was also known as the 'strategic defense initiative'). It was never built.
'too much power. . .': the USSR gave weapons to the Viet Cong, and to many other Communist or Communist-friendly groups during the Cold War, even when there was no 'official' Soviet involvement; the U.S. did the same for anti-Communist groups. This increased bloodshed in conflicts that might have been quicker or smaller-scale without outside intervention, particularly when there was intervention on both sides of a conflict.
'alien peoples': It's unclear why the Ewoks were involved in the fight between the Empire and the Rebels.
'twenty years': Wikipedia dates the end of the Vietnam war at 1975.
'you drove a boy to the stars, and you let him fly': This refers, in part, to the Cold-War-driven space race; to JFK, the youngest elected president, who had a large part in getting America to the stars, and also to the fact that without Vader, without the Empire, and without Vader's acknowledgment of Luke as his son and a worthy opponent, Luke would have stayed on Tatooine forever.
'You destroyed the evil . . .': It was Vader who killed Palpatine, and thus destroyed the Empire-just as the Soviet Union fell not from external pressure, but from its own change of heart.
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And this? "I'm not crying," America said with great dignity. "I just-got-lube in my eye. Both of my eyes." He sniffled quietly. FFFFF AMERICA WHY SUCH A DUDE?
Anon, you are seriously fabulous. May I have your illegitimate children so the state can support them in our new socialist utopia? Y/Y?
Pfft, Captcha says "XIII lawlromp". What?
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And then the emotional part and more light saber cocks.
I laughed so hard, anon.
(Hey, with your author's notes, don't put corresponding numbers in the text of the story. It's distracting. Just post the separate author's notes and let people come to their own conclusions.)
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Sorry about the numbering, I thought I'd fixed that. ^_^;; (I'm used to footnoting when I write.)
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ashfjhvjrndvufuf I HAVE NO WORDS TO MAKE THIS JUSTICE. IT'S PERFECT. IT'S ABSOLUTELY FUCKING BLOODY PERFECT IN EVEYR LITTLE DETAIL. Their playfulness, their banter, the in-jokes to their conflict and themselves, the way they turned into little kids when they put condoms on, for God's sake, the 'lightsaber fencing' battle (which might be the most brilliant scene in the meme), and god, all the comparisons, paralelisms, historical bits etc between Cold War and Star Wars. Fuck, but you're a genuis ♥
And that end, that sweet, sweet adorable end, beautiful in every possible way. I'm off to rec this like fucking crazy. You're amazing.
'you drove a boy to the stars, and you let him fly'
T-That is so-*sob* GORGEOUS <3
(I actually thought the 'boy' was meant to be America himself)
Also, can I ask you a question? Do you know if Star Wars was successful in Russia? I mean, even if you weren't supposed to like it, did people like it?
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Thank you, I'm glad you enjoyed the fic. ^_^;;;
Unfortunately, I don't know how the film was received in the Soviet Union. I could probably find the information somewhere, though; when I do, I'll let you know.
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