TITLE: A Week To Ourselves - Day 2
AUTHOR: Raikana Sakaro (raikana_sakaro)
RECIPIENT: aiixael
CHARACTERS/PAIRINGS: Russia/America (...not always in that order) and a bit Canada/Ukraine...
RATING: MA/NC-17
NOTES: Freaking. Long. More of a warning, but still. Also, all editing/encouragement/cattle-prodding done by
sketchfiend...as well as help with research and ideas on where to set it/what they should do... Loosely based on real places.
SUMMARY: A seven day date/vacation between Russia and America...and an epilogue just because I wanted to see Canada's reaction to his gifts.
Day Two
Russia woke up early in the morning, coming awake all at once. He quickly glanced around the room, then remembered that he was in Hawaii for the week with America. He slowly stretched, listening to his joints pop and crack as he moved them.
He quickly looked at the American next to him before sitting up, careful not to disturb the other man. He found a pair of boxer shorts on the floor and slid them on, making a mental note to give them back to America soon. He pulled them back down a few inches to give himself some room to move.
Once he was comfortable, Russia opened his suitcase and pulled out the bottle of vodka packed in between layers of clothes. He took the bottle and walked out to the patio, settling himself gently in one of the wooden chairs. He twisted the cap off and took a sip as the sky started turning from light gray to pink.
He smiled and kept nursing his bottle as the sun climbed slowly over the horizon. He closed his eye for a moment and listened to the birds calling for each other, punctuated every few seconds by America's snoring. He sighed, but still felt the corner of his mouth twitch upwards as he took another sip.
America finally woke up when the sunlight found a crack in the blinds and shone directly in his eyes. He grumbled and rolled over to escape the brightness, reaching out one arm to fling over Russia. He felt around for a moment, but the bed stayed stubbornly empty. He grumbled and felt around one more time, muttering quietly, "Mmnnnuhfuckisrussia?"
He finally opened his eyes and looked at the empty bed full of nothing but empty sheets. He frowned for a moment, then his eyes flew open. "Shit! He's gone! I have to go find him!"
America scrambled out of bed and looked for his boxers for a moment before giving up and just pulling on his pants. "Shit shit shit! Who could have gotten him here?" He pulled a loose shirt on over his pants and rushed out of the bedroom, about to notify the staff. Then he saw a brief flash of creamy white and turned to look out on the patio to see a white scarf end trailing over the back of the chair.
He sighed and stalked out to stand next to Russia. "What are you doing out here? I was freaking out in there! I was about to call the police!"
Russia smiled up at the blond and gestured to the open chair. "Have a seat, America. I was just watching the sunrise. No reason for panic."
America dropped down into the chair and looked at Russia, then frowned. "...are you wearing my boxers?"
Russia looked down at himself briefly, then nodded. "Yes. Do you want them back?"
"I...umm...that's okay. You keep them..." America sighed again and swing around to sit in the chair the right way. "So...did you want some breakfast?"
Russia smiled again and held up the half-empty bottle of vodka. "I have already had breakfast."
"And you didn't want anything more...solid? Perhaps less alcoholic?" He looked at the pleasantly blank expression on Russia's face and sighed, holding out his hand. "Alright, will you at least share?"
The Russian quickly stashed the bottle out of sight, still smiling. "No."
America pouted, then stood up, going to stand next to Russia's chair. "Come on, man...just a little bit?"
Russia shook his head and tucked the bottle farther behind his back with his elbow. "No. This is my bottle. If you want vodka, you get your own bottle."
America leaned over and waggled his fingers at Russia, grinning. "Give me the bottle or your love handles get it."
Russia gave the American a flat look. "What are you talking about, America?"
America grinned wider and moved his fingers closer to Russia's stomach. "I know your secret weakness..."
Russia raised his eyebrow at the younger nation. "You know nothing, America. Your spies are pathetic."
America stuck his tongue out for a moment. "Yeah, well, so are yours. So there." Then he pounced on the larger man, his fingers viciously tickling his sides.
Russia twitched as the fingers touched the sensitive skin, then he reached down and grabbed America's wrists, bodily hauling the younger man off of his body. "No, America."
America grinned and fought to pull free from the Russian's grasp. "I knew it! You're ticklish!"
Russia smiled gently at the American and looked up at the other man from under his bangs. "I am not...ticklish. But if you do that again, I will hurt you, America."
America finally pulled free and pouted at Russia before sitting down in his seat again. "So what do you want to do today? I was thinking maybe we could go in for some spa treatments this morning, then grab some lunch and head down to the beach for some tanning. You're too damn pale for your own good."
Russia turned his grin on America again. "I think I will not be going to the spa with America."
"Well, you have to go with me. They only take two people at a time and you're going to come with me because I don't want to spend two hours with a stranger."
Russia shook his head and looked back at the ocean. "No. No spa, America."
America climbed out of his chair onto his knees and crawled over to Russia, looking up at him with dewy puppy-dog eyes. "Please, Russia? I just want to spend the week doing stuff with you. Please...?"
Russia shook his head again. "No. I will not be naked in a room of strangers, America."
America grabbed one of Russia's hands and rubbed his cheek against it like a cat, still giving the large man a begging look. "Please, Russia? You won't have to be naked... You'll have a towel..."
Russia gave the young man a dangerous stare. "No, America. I do not want strange people touching my naked body."
"...you let me touch your naked body..."
"You are not a stranger. You are America."
America climbed off his knees and sat on Russia's lap, giving him a surprised smile. "Oh. My. God... Are...are you self-conscious about your fat, Russia?" America grinned widely and poked Russia's stomach with both his pointer fingers.
Russia frowned, but looked away from America, his cheeks turning light pink. "No..."
America laughed and threw his arms around Russia's neck, holding him close and kissing him on the nose. "You are so... Don't worry. I bet they see tourists twice as big as you. Besides, your fat is fucking sexy. Not like all those other people..."
Russia turned his face away from America again, trying to escape the kisses, blushing a deeper pink. Then he felt America move away from his neck and glanced over to see what the young man was doing now. Then he felt America's warm lips press against his stomach and he pushed the young nation away. "Fine. You win, America. I will go with you if you do not do any more of that..."
America grinned and kissed Russia hard, then sat back on his heels. "At least until tonight. Now come on. Let's go get some breakfast and go find the spa." He climbed off the Russian's lap and strode back into their rooms to get dressed properly.
Russia followed him, stowing the vodka bottle in the mini-fridge as he passed it. "I think you mean lunch, America. It is almost time for lunch."
America pulled Russia's shirt off and looked up at the clock with a frown, his hair standing on end. "Shit. It is. Fine. We'll grab some lunch and go to the spa."
Russia reached out and smoothed down America's hair before peeling off the too-small shorts to find a pair of his new underwear.
* * *
America held onto Russia's upper arm and dragged him toward the massage parlors. "Come on. You said you would come with me, so no being a pussy!"
Russia followed the smaller nation reluctantly. "I am not being a pussy, America. And I am going with you."
America turned to look at Russia as he went through the door into the parlor. "Well, you're acting like you really want to leave, so you are so being a pussy." He walked over to one of the small tables and hopped up to sit on it, swinging his feet.
Russia slowly paced the small room, glancing at the walls from time to time. After a few moments, a middle-aged man followed them into the room, smiling. "Hello, gentlemen. Welcome to Maui. I hope you've been enjoying your stay so far?"
America nodded with a wide smile. "Hell yes!"
The man laughed and gestured at the beds. "Well, if you'll take off your clothes and lie down on those tables, your masseuses will be in shortly."
America nodded as the man left the room, immediately stripping off his shirt. Russia just stopped in his tracks and looked at the door intently. America recognized the look in the Russian's eyes and managed to intercept him as he made a break for the door.
America held onto Russia's arms with both hands and gave him a serious look. "Come on, Russia. You promised. Just take off your clothes and get on the table."
Russia shook his head and tried to break free from the American's grip. "No. I have changed my mind. I am going back to the room. You may stay here."
America tightened his grasp. "No. Get your ass over to that bed and get naked. You can put a towel on once you are nude."
Russia shook his head harder, sending his hair flying out of its normal style. America sighed and gave the large nation a serious look. "Come on, Russia. You get naked all the time in your sauna."
Russia wriggled under America's arms, still trying to break free. "People do not touch me in my sauna."
America grinned and leaned forward until his nose was almost touching Russia's. "I touch you in your sauna."
Russia stopped struggling for a moment, looking off to the side with pink cheeks. "You are different, America."
America gave the taller man a quick peck on the cheek. "Come on, Russia. They're going to be coming in here soon and if you won't strip, I'll take all your clothes off for you and how would that look to two strangers?"
Russia scowled at the American, muttering something under his breath about blackmail before he turned his back to the young man, slowly pulling off his Hawaiian shirt. America smiled, admiring the view, nicely framed by the tails of Russia's creamy scarf. Then he stuck his thumbs in the waistband of his shorts and pulled them off, boxers and all, tossing them in the small basket.
Then he leaned against one of the beds and watched Russia unbuckle his belt, pull it out of the loops and set it in the basket. He sighed and tapped his fingers against his arm for a moment. "Hurry up, or they'll see you half naked!" Then he reached forward, hooked his fingers in Russia's waistband and yanked the pants down around his ankles.
Russia let out a surprisingly high yelp, then turned to glare at America as his whole face turned pink. "What are you doing, America?"
America grinned and pressed a brief kiss to Russia's ass before rubbing his cheek against it. "Just helping you. Now come on. They'll be here, soon." He stood up and heard a throat clearing behind them, turning to see two young women standing in the doorway with flushed faces.
One of them coughed and smiled politely. "Umm...Mister Jones and Mister...Russian?"
Russia stared resolutely at the wall in front of him. "Am--Alfred, did you forget my last name again?"
America coughed and laid down on his table. "Maybe. Fuck if I can ever remember how to spell it. Or pronounce it. Your last name is hard..."
Russia covered his face with one hand and stepped out of his pants, dropping them in the basket with the rest. He took a deep breath, then laid down on the other table with his face still burning pink. "My name is Ivan Braginski..."
America threw out his arm to gesture at the Russian. "See what I mean? That name. It's impossible to remember."
Russia turned his head briefly to fix America with a glare. "Shut up, Alfred." Then he buried his face in the headrest as his masseuse poured warm, fragrant oil over his back.
* * *
America grinned as he walked back into their cabin, immediately heading to the bedroom to sprawl on the bed. "God, that felt good! We should do that again tomorrow, too!"
"It was passable. I have had better. I will give you real massage tomorrow," Russia said as he closed the front door with his foot and followed the young nation into the bedroom, stopping in front of the fridge to retrieve his bottle of vodka for a quick afternoon snack. He frowned as he found a plastic-covered plate where his vodka should have been, pulling it out and looking down at the fruit cubes and slices under the cover.
He bent down to peer inside and found that his vodka had just been pushed to the back by the plate. He pulled the bottle out and stashed it in the pockets of his cargo shorts before turning to America, holding up the platter. "Do you want some snacks, America?"
America sat up and looked over at the large man. "Wait...what? There's food in there? What else is hiding in there?" He rolled off the bed and scrambled over to kneel in front of the small fridge. He grinned happily and pulled out a bottle of champagne with a sparkle in his eyes. "Fuck, yes!"
Russia set the fruit plate on the bed and settled himself in an easy chair to drink his snack. America stood up and shut the fridge door with his hip before going over to the bed and plopping down next to the fruit. "Come on, Russia... Don't be so cold. Let's have some fun..."
Russia took a sip from his bottle, crossing his legs at the knee. "I am quite satisfied where I am, America."
America opened the platter, setting the plastic lid to one side. He picked up a small bunch of grapes and sauntered over to Russia with a smirk, sitting on the larger man's lap. "I think you can be even more satisfied..."
Russia set his bottle on the floor, well out of America's reach and turned to look at the young nation. "What are you--" he started to say, then found his mouth suddenly full of grape. He glowered half-heartedly at the American, nipping at his fingertips, then swallowed the grape. "That is not an answer, America..."
America just smirked and pulled another grape off, staring at Russia through half-lidded eyes as he rolled it around his lips. Then he pursed his lips and slowly pushed the grape through the tiny hole and into his mouth. He pushed it against his cheek and moved it back and forth a few times before leaning down and giving the large nation an open-mouthed kiss. Then he quickly shoved the small fruit into Russia's mouth before breaking off, letting a small string of saliva stretch between them before it snapped under its own weight.
Russia swallowed the grape, moving slower this time. He looked at America from under lowered eyelids. "Must you do this, America?"
America leaned forward against Russia's chest, grinding down against the older man as he pressed a third grape to the corner of Russia's mouth. He gently licked the other corner of the mouth, then whispered, "Yes..."
Russia shuddered as his new boxers rubbed against his dick, slipping and sliding around it as America rocked against him. He twitched his head to the side and sucked the grape into his mouth, swallowing it whole before capturing America's fingers before they could escape. He released the thumb after a moment, but sucked the index and middle fingers farther into his mouth.
America moaned and wiggled his fingers against Russia's tongue, then pressed his crotch against the taller man, somehow trying to press through his clothes to grind their growing erections together. Then he felt Russia's tongue slip between his first two fingers and he dropped his head to kiss the pale jaw, shoving the scarf out of the way as he moved down the neck.
Russia sucked on America's fingers until his lips were brushing the knuckles, then he wrapped his arms around the smaller body, holding America close as he stood up. He felt America bring his legs up and around to wrap around his waist, still grinding their groins together. He released the American's fingers and turned his head to one side so he could reach America'g's ear, biting down on it gently and feeling the young man moan against his neck.
America released the Russian's neck when he felt the teeth on his ear, then he gently pulled away and swung his head back around to give Russia a deep kiss, ruthlessly invading the other's mouth with his tongue.
Russia walked forward slowly until he felt the bed against his legs, then he leaned forward so America was laying on the bed and crawled up behind him, still kissing him intently. He took advantage of the distraction to pull the grapes from America's limp fingers, then he pulled away and sat up, kneeling between America's spread legs.
America whined for a moment as the Russian pulled away, then he opened his eyes in time to see Russia shedding his shirt for the second time that day. He felt his hips twitch once more, then he shoved himself into a sitting position to run his hands over Russia's chest and down his stomach. Then he spotted the fruit plate and quickly grabbed a cube of melon, rubbing it against the pink nipples.
Once they were coated with juice, America leaned forward to lick them clean, sucking on them one at a time to make sure all the juice was gone. Then he placed the cube squarely between Russia's pecs and smeared it down, over his chest, around his navel, and right up against the waist of his shorts. Then he opened his mouth wide, stuck out his tongue, and followed the trail as far down as he could, leaving a wide, wet swath behind him.
Russia shivered again, feeling his erection twitch as America moved down his stomach. Then he gathered his wits and placed a hand on the tanned chest, shoving him back onto the bed. He leaned over the younger nation and quickly opened his shirt, losing a few of the buttons in the process, but not caring once he had the shirt spread open in front of him.
He gathered up a handful of fruit and carefully laid them on America, making trails from the hollow of his neck, down to his bulging shorts, with many detours and side trips in between. He sat back for a moment to admire his work before he leaned close to America, kissing his neck. "I suppose I could eat something after all..." he whispered huskily before flicking out his tongue and pulling the first cube into his mouth, sucking on the spot where it had been. When he finally pulled away, America's neck was red and swollen. He just grinned and moved down to the next cube.
By the time Russia reached his nipples, America was bucking his hips up, trying not to dislodge the fruit, but wanting so badly to be touched. He finally felt Russia's hand on his hip, but then he whined and tried to buck up again when it stayed on his hip. He found that the larger nation was pinning him to the bed, though, so he couldn't move his hips. He looked down at Russia with a desperate look on his face, but the larger man was concentrating on America's torso and the chunks of fruit.
Russia smirked as he sucked up the last piece of melon, swallowing it whole before sucking and biting the skin just above America's waistband, feeling the young nation squirming under his hands. He gently slipped his finger under the waistband and ran it from one hip to the other, finally turning to face the American with a smirk. "You are so very easy, America..."
When he heard that, America finally stopped twisting desperately under the larger nation. His look of wanton desire hardened into one of mischief as he planned his revenge. As Russia was busy mouthing the skin over his shorts, America wrapped his legs around the other man, quickly flipping them over so he was kneeling over the Russian with his legs still tangled under the large body.
After a few seconds, he managed to pull his legs from under the large man and moved down so he was more or less face-to-face with Russia. "I. Am not. Easy," he said with a glare.
Russia gave the young American a smirk and reached down to rub his crotch teasingly, watching as the blond tossed his head back and moaned. "I disagree, America. I think you are very easy. You have no control."
America reached out blindly and grabbed the bottle of champagne, clumsily tearing off the foil as he straddled Russia's hips, trying not to moan again as Russia rolled their hips together. He finally managed to pull the foil away from the cork and threw it over his shoulder before trying to open the bottle with his hands.
Then he stopped after a few moments and grinned, tilting the bottle away from his face before shaking it vigorously. After a few seconds, the cork flew out of the bottle neck and champagne surged out, most of it falling on Russia's stomach, chest, and face, as well as soaking into the bed around them.
He set the bottle to the side for the moment as the cork came down to bounce off Russia's stomach onto the bedspread, rolling until it nestled against the large nation's side. Then he smiled and leaned forward, taking Russia's cheeks with both his hands and licking the large nose from tip to bridge. Then he pulled away and licked his lips, looking into Russia's light violet eyes. "Man, you taste even better now..."
Russia tried to give America a withering look, but found it rather difficult with the young nation trying to lick his eyes clean. America soon moved down to his cheeks, but it was still hard to glare at someone who was only a fraction of an inch from his face. Then he felt America's lips press against his and he slowly opened his mouth, sucking the tongue into his mouth and teasing the American.
America finally pulled free from the kiss and kept moving down Russia's body, sucking his way down the thick neck, leaving several hickeys behind as revenge. Then he licked up one collar bone from the center to the shoulder and nibbled his way back to the center, repeating the procedure with the other one. He tilted his head to lick between the two pecs, then curling along the underside of one and lick and suck the nipple.
Then America felt Russia's hips grind up against him again and moaned, then growled as he licked across the broad chest to tease the other nipple. When the Russian ground up again, America released the nipple with another low growl, moving his tongue back to the center, running it over the large nation's stomach. He quickly latched onto the navel, sucking out the champagne that was pooled there before dipping the tongue in to catch any stray drops.
America glanced up at the older man over to top of his glasses, moving back down from Russia's stomach towards his crotch. He stopped for a moment to tug on the coarse hairs with his teeth as his hands quickly unfastened the cargo shorts, tugging them over large hips to rest just past Russia's ass, leaving the erection covered by the soaked satin of his boxers. America finally moved past the short hairs to rest his mouth on boxers, running them up and down Russia's hard length.
Russia bared his teeth and snarled as he looked down at America. "Stop teasing and do something, America..."
America smirked against the fabric and opened his mouth to wrap around the head, sucking on it and tasting the champagne. He felt the Russian release a breath and moved his head down, sucking on the fabric covering the underside of the erection, trying to get as much champagne out of it as he could. When he felt the frustration radiate from the older man, he finally pulled away and tugged Russia's boxers down to join his shorts, freeing the erection. He bent down one last time to kiss the head, then sat up and climbed off Russia.
Russia growled deep in his throat and sat up to look at America. "Why did you stop, America?"
The young nation shrugged, slipping his shorts down and off, followed shortly by his boxers. "Gotta finish our snack. Besides, you're all wet. You have to take off your clothes so you can dry off."
Russia sucked in a deep breath, then released it, feeling control return. "I am wet with champagne, America. Taking off my clothes will not make me dry faster."
America stood in front of the larger man and grinned, planting his hands on his hips, showing off the speedo-shaped patch of untanned skin on his groin. "Of course it does! I always know what I'm talking about! Now off with them."
Russia sat on the edge of the bed with his arms folded over his chest, refusing the move. Finally, America stood in front of the large nation, bent down, grabbed the shorts and boxers with both hands, and yanked them off so hard that Russia fell back onto the bed. "There. All better, now."
America climbed onto the bed again and sat next to Russia, pulling the fruit tray and champagne bottle closer to their new position. "So...you still want the rest of your snack, Russia?" He picked up another grape, slowly pushing it into his mouth before chewing it slowly.
Russia licked his lips and nodded slowly. "Yes...yes, I still hunger, America..."
America grinned and took another swig of champagne, feeding Russia chunks of fruit by hand, pushing them past the soft lips, brushing across them with his thumb before grabbing another piece.
When he saw they were down to the last few pieces of fruit, he leaned over to kiss the Russian before giving him a leering smile. He snatched up a piece of fruit and, instead of bringing it to Russia's lips, he dropped his hand to Russia's lap, rubbing the fruit across the slick, red head before feeding it to him.
Russia let out a deep-throated groan as he flicked out his tongue to lick the pre-cum off the fruit before pulling it from America's fingers, sucking it in and swallowing it. America grunted and pulled his finger out of reach of Russia's tongue and grabbed another chunk of fruit. "Oh, God, Russia... Did that taste good?"
Russia smiled at America and licked his lips. "Very good, America. I think I would like to taste you next..."
America bit his lip briefly as he moaned. "God...whatever you want, Russia..." He slipped the fruit down, gently skimming it over his chest before rubbing it across the head of his dick. He slowly spun it in his fingers, making sure to coat all the faces before he pulled it away and offered it to the large nation.
Russia's nostrils flared for a moment as he breathed in the mingled scents of fruit and America, then he wrapped his lips around the young man's fingers, tugging the fruit free and then licking the fingers to clean off any trace of his juices, swallowing it all without chewing.
America glanced down at the last two pieces. "What flavor do you want the last ones to be?"
Russia tilted his head to one side as he thought about it for a moment, then gave America a predatory smile. "I want the flavor to be both. Together. Like we will be when you become one with me."
America grinned back and picked up one of the pieces. "Yeah... I'll become one with you. Right after you finish your snack..." Then he quickly dropped his hand and coated the fruit in his own juices before rubbing it against Russia's dick, tilting it as he turned it to press the corner into the small hole.
After a few seconds of grinding the corner against the tip, Russia reached down and grabbed America's wrist, pulling his hand up to face-level. "I will never finish my snack like that, America..."
America grinned back and licked his lips quickly. "Yeah...yeah...gotta finish..." He reached out with his free hand to snag the last cube as Russia sucked the fruit from between his fingers. He watched the large nation swallow before licking his fingers clean. America closed his eyes with a moan as he felt the tongue wrap around the fingers again, licking them clean, while he dirtied his other fingers rubbing against his head.
Once Russia released his hand, America felt his hips jerk as he pulled the fruit away, missing the cool slippery feeling. He quickly coated it in Russia's plentiful juices, pressing it to the large man's lips, smearing it across them. Russia quickly swallowed the fruit and all its juices before leaning forward to give America a passionate kiss.
America returned the kiss eagerly, dropping his hands to Russia's lap, gently stroking the erection, his fingertips ghosting over the sensitive skin teasingly. Russia reached for America to return the touches, but America grabbed the Russian's wrist, pushing it away. "No way. We're doing this my way..."
Russia smiled darkly at America, or did the best he could with a hand gently tugging his foreskin up and down. "And what is your way, America?"
America grinned and shoved Russia back onto the bed, straddling his hips again. "Just scoot up a bit and I'll show you..."
Russia raised an eyebrow at the American, but slowly slid back on the bed, watching America shift along with him, making sure to stay right over Russia's hips. Once they were far enough up, America leaned over Russia's chest for the lube on the side table. Then he kissed Russia and moved down his body, pressing gentle kisses down the large torso.
America grabbed Russia's legs and spread them apart so he could slip between them, rubbing the larger man's balls, then down the small bulge behind them to slip between the cheeks of his ass. He gently rubbed against the small hole before pulling his fingers out and coating them with lube. He looked up at Russia's face and saw the large man staring at him impatiently.
He cleared his throat and bent to his task again, his own erection reminding him exactly how long he had been waiting. He quickly prepared the large man and pressed against him, entering slowly, by fractions of inches. "How...how is that?"
Russia brought his legs up behind America's back and glanced at the younger nation impassively. "You seem very nervous, America. We are not human." With that, Russia tightened his legs, pulling America deep inside of him with twin moans from both of them.
America took a deep breath and peeled himself off Russia's chest, supporting himself on his arms as he started thrusting. "Well...sorry if I'm...trying to...take things...easy." He felt the muscular legs relax as he kept moving and bent down to kiss Russia again. "People always tell me...I'm too...hurrying...oh God, Russia..."
Russia pressed his hand to the tan chest and grinned. "You have been very good today, America. You have not hurried at all. But now it is time for it, yes?" He brushed his hand over to America's nipple and pinched it between two fingers, starting to roll it back and forth.
America cried out and shoved deep inside Russia, staying there for a moment before resuming his thrusting. "Christ, Russia...don't do that. I...I thought I was going to come right then... But we...we have to do it...together..."
Russia flicked the hard nub with a grin before leaving it alone. "Such romantic notions in your head, America, but if you insist..." He ran his hand down America's stomach until their bodies came together, then he wrapped the hand around his own erection, stroking it roughly as he rolled his hips up to meet America's.
America cried out as his thrusts became harder, faster, and much more erratic. "I...God, Russia...I'm..." He bent his head down and captured Russia's lips in a desperate kiss, moaning into his mouth as he thrust hard inside the large man. Then his body tensed up and he ground against Russia as he shot his load inside of the Russian. He finally pulled away from the kiss, panting. "Fuck...Russia... That...that was...fuck." He felt his arms give out and he fell onto the Russian's chest, feeling the large hand still moving between them.
Russia grinned at America, but still kissed his forehead as his free hand ran down the American's back. He grabbed the young man's ass in one hand and pulled the slim hips up against his erection. "Yes...finish what you have started, America..."
America let out a groan of complaint but flexed his body up and down, back and forth, rubbing against Russia's dick and the hand wrapped around it, stroking it up and down. Russia moaned softly and let out deep breath through his nose, ruffling the gold hair before he kissed it, still grinding against America.
America finally brought his hands down Russia's body and grabbed his hips, kneading and rubbing the skin to either side of his groin. Then he smiled as he felt the Russian go tense underneath him, spreading sticky, slimy warmth between the two of them. Then he felt the hand pull away and he ground against Russia one last time before he closed his eyes and dozed off on the large chest.
Russia moved his free hand back up to gently rub America's back as he licked his hand clean. "Have a good nap, America..." Then he wrapped both arms around the young nation and held him close, staring up at the ceiling.
* * *
America sat across from Russia, grinning at the large nation across the wicker table. "See? I told you that you'd like it here."
Russia glanced up from the menu for a moment before looking it over again. "I have not said that I like it here, yet. However, I am...trying it." He gently folded the menu in front of himself and reached for the drinks menu, flipping through it slowly.
America leaned forward, still grinning, and pulled the small menu down. "Come on... You can't say you didn't enjoy what we did earlier..."
Russia raised his eyebrow and pulled the menu out of the young nation's grip. "I did not say that, either, America. However, I have not decided if I...enjoy this...excursion."
"Well, how could you not? It's just gonna be five more days of this!" He spread his arms to gesture at the restaurant and everything outside of it.
Russia glanced over the list of vodka cocktails, then sighed and set the drink menu down as well. "Five more days of you dragging me onto boats until I pass out, America?"
America blushed and pouted at the Russian. "That was just one time... I meant more stuff like today."
The large man gave America an impassive stare. "I have only been here for two days, America. One day, you kept me in the sun until I fainted and one you pulled my pants down in front of strangers..."
America frowned. "Hey. I didn't know they were going to walk in and if you hadn't chickened out, you would have already been up on that table before they saw your dick." He drummed the table impatiently. "And you know what I'm talking about. The massage and the spa and the food and the sex..."
Russia shrugged, looking around for their server. "That has been only once, so I am still undecided. Perhaps I will enjoy this by the end..." When nobody stopped by their table, he reached out and grabbed the first waiter to walk by, pulling him over to them.
The waiter frowned, about to speak sternly to Russia when he saw the unsettling smile on the large man's face. That, combined with the pressure on his wrist, made him re-think his course of action. He smiled at Russia, instead. "How can I help you, sir?"
Russia flipped open the menu with his free hand. "I will have...this steak dinner, please. With boiled potatoes, not mashed."
The waiter nodded and flipped open his order pad, holding it in his trapped hand to write. "Very good, sir. Would you like something to drink?"
Russia opened the drinks menu to the vodka cocktails. "I will have this...Screwdriver. Without the juice."
The waiter carefully wrote it down, then raised his eyebrow. "So...you just want a glass of vodka, sir?"
Russia tilted his head to the side for a moment, still smiling. "Just bring the whole bottle, please."
The waiter nodded and looked to America. "And for you, sir?"
America grinned and bounced in his seat as he ordered. "I'll have the same steak dinner, only can I get chili fries instead of potatoes? Oh yeah! And one of those really, really big daiquiris!"
"...what flavor, sir?"
"Blue!" America said with a wide grin.
"I...of course, sir. I'll put your order in right away, sirs. ...if you would please let me go?"
Russia smiled pleasantly at the waiter and released him, holding the menus out to him. The waiter carefully took the menus and hurried away as fast as he could without seeming overly frightened of the two strange men.
America frowned at the Russian once the waiter left. "Chill out, man. And stop calling me that."
"Calling you what, America?"
"That!" The American lowered his voice to a whisper. "I'm not supposed to be...America. I'm just supposed to be Alfred, yeah? A perfectly normal guy on vacation with his crazy, creepy, Russian boyfriend."
Russia's back went stiff and he turned his creepy smile on America, not actually saying anything, but with his lips moving slightly. America reached out for Russia's hand and patted it awkwardly. "Just calm down. I...I'm not saying we necessarily are, but I booked a romantic getaway for two dudes, so I'm sure they must think that. And...and they wouldn't get what it's really like, because they don't know what we are. Right? No...no going all weird?"
Russia took a deep breath and let it out, his smile losing its dangerous edge. "Very well. But you will not tell that to anyone, yes?"
"...yeah."
Russia opened his mouth to reply, but then a large glass of bright blue slurry was set on the table between them. America's face lit up as he saw the drink, then pulled it close, starting to suck on the straw. Russia started to frown, then the bottle of vodka appeared next to the blue daiquiri. He quickly twisted the cap off and, ignoring the glass, drank directly from the bottle.
America frowned as he watched Russia. "You shouldn't drink that straight from the bottle, man. You're not at home anymore. People drink their booze out of cups here. Unless they're, like, homeless or some shit..."
Russia frowned at the American and lowered the bottle. "So I am not allowed to drink like I always do?"
America reached over and tried to take the vodka from the other man, ending up in a tug-of-war battle. "Just...let me pour you a damn drink. Stop acting all weird about this. It's still the same stuff, just in a glass."
Russia glowered at the young nation and tugged the bottle away. "Fine, Ame--Alfred. I will drink from your glass, yes?" He picked up the tumbler and poured some vodka into it before taking a sip. Then he set the bottle on the edge of the table, out of reach of America's grabby hands.
America stuck his tongue out at the other man, then went back to his own drink, already half gone. "Man...you should try some of this, too. It's great. It's like a Slurpee...only with rum!"
Russia took a good look at the bright blue drink, then shook his head. "No, I think not...Alfred. No alcohol should look like that."
America started to retort, then his face lit up as the waiter came back again, carrying two steak dinners. He set them in front of the two men and America shoved his drink to the side, feeling his mouth water as he looked at the steak, glistening with juices. He picked up his silverware and grinned at Russia with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"
Russia set his glass down and picked up his own fork, spearing a chunk of potato. "I should hope not."
America stuck his tongue out again, then resumed smiling. "This is totally a romantic dinner, so we should feed each other!"
Russia's mouth froze in a flat smile. "...no."
"Come on... It'll be fun! Here, I'll start!"" America sawed off a small piece of steak and held it out to Russia. "gThere. Eat it. Come on."
Russia shied away from the steak as he slowly chewed his potato. "No."
America grinned and leaned farther forward, rubbing the meat over Russia's cheek, making squeaking sounds and he prodded the other man's cheeks. "Just eat it, Ivan."
Russia turned his face away from the American and downed half his glass of vodka, trying to pass off his blush as alcohol-related. "No, Alfred. I am not eating your steak. I have my own to eat."
America sighed and kept prodding the large man, moving towards his nose. "That's the point. You eat pieces of my steak and I eat pieces of yours and it'll be just like the fruit earlier. Only I won't get a chest full of hickeys after we're done here."
Russia pulled away from the steak again and looked at it suspiciously before pulling it off the fork. Once he swallowed, he glanced at America and speared another piece of potato. "There. Are you happy, now?"
America shoved a few fries into his mouth before cutting off another chunk of meat. "Yeah! Now do it again!" He held the fork across the table again and resumed prodding the Russian.
Russia snarled softly and bit down on the fork, pulling it out of America's hand. Then, before the younger man could grab it back, he took hold of the handle, ate the steak, and set the fork by his own plate. "There. Now no more. I am trying to eat my own food."
America pouted at the other man for a moment, then stood up and leaned over the table, grabbing for his fork, only to find it gone. He looked up from the table and saw Russia holding it out behind his back, out of reach. He still reached his arms out as far as he could, trying to grab it anyways.
Russia calmly ate his potatoes as America leaned against him, still grabbing for the fork. Finally he sighed and looked at the young man. "Sit down, Alfred. You will get your fork back when you are ready to behave."
America sat down in his chair with a huff and crossed his arms over his chest. "Fuck you, man," he said sulkily. "You sound just like En--Arthur, now." He stuffed another handful of fries in his mouth and pulled his daiquiri close to slurp on it again. He kept slurping for several minutes, until he ran out of fries. Then he looked down at his steak and back over at Russia.
Finally, after long, torturous minutes of looking at his juicy steak, he jumped out of his seat again, reaching for his fork. "Give it back!"
Russia held it behind his back, out of reach again, still eating his own food. Then America made a grab for Russia's fork and Russia frowned as he moved his other hand out of the way.
America stood back for a moment, glaring at Russia and trying to think of a new approach. He took a long pull on his straw, then dashed around the small table, reaching for the cutlery in Russia's hands. He just ran head-first into the large man's chest and stood up, looking for the forks.
Russia sighed and gave America an impassive look, holding both forks in one hand over his head. "Do you mind? I am trying to eat..."
America crouched down, then jumped with his hand stretched high, trying to snatch the silverware away. Russia simply moved his arm out of the way and put his free hand on the young nation's chest, pushing him back to a comfortable distance.
Then America grinned and chuckled softly to himself as he rubbed his hands together. He walked close to Russia again and looked up at the large nation with a pleading look. "Please? I just want to eat my steak. I'll leave you alone, if you give my fork back. Promise..."
Russia gave America a distrusting look and pushed him away again. "Sit down and behave and I will perhaps consider it."
America huffed and pouted, then launched himself at the Russian, wrapping his arms around his neck, pressing their mouths together in a passionate kiss. He pulled himself close to Russia, rubbing his body all over the large nation's exposed arms and legs, reaching down to cup his ass.
Russia flushed and quickly pulled his head back into his scarf to escape the kisses. "What are you doing?!" he whispered quietly.
America brushed soft kisses across Russia's forehead, pulling closer to the large nation. Russia glowered at the young man over the top of his scarf. "Get off of me, America," he hissed. "We are in public!"
America gave the taller man one last kiss before he stretched his arm up as far as it would go and snagged both the forks from Russia's drooping hand. Then he stood back with a triumphant grin. "Ha! Take that! I got them away from you!"
Russia glared at America and reached out to grab the forks back, but the smaller nation danced out of reach with a light, taunting laugh. America sat down on his chair again, still grinning at Russia. "Stop being such a poor sport. I won and you lost. Fair and square."
Russia reluctantly sat down again. "I do not call that fair play, Alfred..."
America cut off a piece of steak and held it out to Russia on the end of his fork. "Well, I do, and that's what really counts. Besides, I can't help it if you don't want the world to know you're gay."
Russia shoved the fork away from his face, still giving the American a dangerous look. "I am not gay, Am--Alfred."
America tried to sneak the fork in under Russia's defenses, frowning in concentration. "Like hell. You're scared shitless of chicks. You're so totally gay."
Russia tried to snatch the cutlery away from America again, but it was pulled away before he could. "I am not scared of women. I...I just avoid my younger sister for other reasons. I like my older sister."
America smirked and waved the bit of steak as he spoke. "Well, yeah, you like her, but it's not like you'd fuck her or anything..." Then he jabbed the steak at Russia again, hoping to score. He stopped short and pulled it away, though, when he saw the unsettling smile frozen on Russia's face. "You wouldn't fuck your sister, would you?"
America finally ate the bit of steak as Russia kept smiling at him. "Cause, like...ew. Gross, man. That would be like me fucking Matt."
Russia's smile never faltered as he tilted his head to one side. "You mean you have not done such a thing, Alfred?"
America cleared his throat and took a long pull on his daiquiri, staring at it intently. "I...umm...hey! This isn't about me! This is about you and your creepy sister fetish, man.'
"My sister is a beautiful woman, is she not?"
America grinned and looked up from his daiquiri, chuckling to himself. "Yeah, she's pretty smoking. You know, I might even do her if Matt wasn't already tapping that..." Then he bent his head again, missing the way Russia's eyes took on a distinctly psychotic edge. "I mean, I'd hit the one with the giant bazongas, not the crazy one."
He sucked out the last of the blue, alcoholic slush and picked the glass up, waving it to get the waiter's attention. "The crazy one looks nice enough and all, and I bet she's a fucking tiger in bed, but I don't want to wake up with her knife to my throat or anything..." He finally looked over and saw the expression on the other man's face. "Umm...and when I say I'd hit her, I totally mean that in the most platonic way possible. Yeah."
Russia's look only lost a bit of his edge as he stared at the American. 'So you say that your brother is...courting...my sister?"
America blinked and gave Russia a panicked look, still holding up his glass. "Oh, shit. Did I say that out loud?"
Russia just nodded with a smile. "Remind me to give young Matthew a call when we return to the room... I must...congratulate him."
America set his glass and fork down. "Yeah... I'll do that. Uh, excuse me for a sec. I have to go make...uh...take a piss. Yeah."
Russia smiled at the American and nodded. "I will order you a new drink, yes?"
America nodded absently as he rushed through the dining room and into the men's room. He quickly ducked into one of the stalls and sat down on the seat as he pulled out his phone, dialing Canada's number. He gnawed on his lip as the phone rang.
Then he finally heard the click and held the phone close to his ear. "Canada? Is that you?"
Canada held his phone to his ear, trying to catch his breath. "What is it? I'm busy..."
America glanced around out of habit, then hunched over, cupping his mouth around the mic. "You know how I'm on vacation with Russia and all, right?"
"...yes..." Canada took a deep breath and let it out. "What did you do this time?"
"Umm...he kinda knows about you and...y'know...umm...boingy-boobs fucking."
Canada sighed heavily and reached over to stroke Ukraine's hair, lulling her back to sleep. "Her name is Ukraine and how did he find out? I told you to keep it a secret."
America sat up straighter as he heard the door open again. "I'm sorry... It just kinda slipped out. We were talking about how gay he was and how I would hit that and then it just slipped out and now he's gonna call you when we get back in tonight to ‘congratulate' you, though what can he really do over the phone, right? So that's a bright spot..."
Canada pinched the bridge of his nose and gave a pained sigh. "Alright...fine... Just try to keep him out as long as you can. We just got to bed and I do not want to deal with Russia at four in the morning."
America grinned and gently stroked the bottom half of the phone. "Thanks for being cool about it, Matt. I'll keep him here until the bar closes, and then maybe we can go for a walk or some romantic shit like that. Walks on the beach in moonlight are romantic, right?"
"Yes, America. Now I have to get some sleep if I want to have any hope of dealing with Russia in the morning. Goodnight." Then he smiled to himself as he hung up the phone, proud that he was so assertive for once.
America sighed as he heard the click and shut the phone with a snap. "Time to go face the pretty princess..." he said as he walked out of the bathroom.
* * *
America grinned at Russia over the top of his martini glass. "Y'know? I didn't think something with Nuclear in the name should taste good, but this...this is freaking awesome, man..."
Russia grunted noncommittally as he tilted his head back downing the rest of his bottle. Then he held the bottle over his head and waved. "More, please."
One of the waiters came over with another bottle of vodka and set it on the table before taking the empty bottle from the large Russian. Then he looked between the two men with a nervous smile. "Sirs, it...it's midnight already and we were supposed to close at eleven. If...it's not too much trouble, perhaps you wouldn't mind going back to your rooms?"
America shook his head and grinned at the waiter. "Man, tell your barkeep this drink is awesome. Just...really great. An'...an' we can't go back, yet. Gotta...keep him out late so's...so we get back late an' then...then when he calls Matt, he'll...be awake or some shit. Iunno. This drink, man, is great."
Russia smiled as he stood up and grabbed America's arm. "I am sorry for causing trouble, yes? We will go now. Come, Alfred." He hauled America out of his chair bodily.
America frowned and tried to keep his glass upright. "But...but I'm no...not done with...with...Nucular...something. Gotta finish...gotta...gotta catchemall."
Russia snatched the glass from America's hand, managing to hold both his bottle and the glass in the same hand, then tilted America's head back with the other. He quickly poured the rest of the drink in America's mouth, then nodded. "There. You are done with your drink."
America's shoulder shook as he swallowed the last of the bright yellow alcohol. Then he started laughing and pounded Russia's back. "Man, that was...was awesome. Like a beer stand only with a...a dakerery."
Russia grabbed America's arm again and steered him out of the restaurant. "Shut up, Alfred. You are embarrassing yourself."
America giggled as he walked beside Russia, poking the larger man's cheek with a finger. "Nooo...no... I...I think I'm....I'mbarrassin' you. You nev...nevir caredif I...Ibarrassed m'self."
Russia sighed and dragged America out into the open hair. "We are going back to the room, America."
America just shook his head and started tugging on Russia's arm. "Noo...no, c'mon, man. We...we gotta go for...walk...onna beach. Is romantic. An'...an' shit. Yeah."
Russia stopped for a moment, resisting America's tugs as he considered his options, looking between the beach and the path back to the cabins. Finally, though, he turned to the beach. "We will go for a walk on the beach, then we will go back and you will go to sleep and you will not do anything embarrassing, yes?"
America just giggled again and dragged Russia over to the beach. Then he clung tight to the other's arm as he started staggering across the sand. Russia walked beside him, keeping them both upright and more-or-less steady.
Russia walked along the sand next to America, taking the occasional swig from his bottle as he looked up at the starry sky, almost able to ignore the American rubbing against his arm affectionately. Then he looked down as he heard a gagging noise and saw America clap a hand over his mouth. He quickly pulled his hand from America's grip and moved several feet back.
America stood perfectly still for a few minutes, taking deep breaths, then finally pulled his hand away and grinned at Russia. "I'm good. Jus'...a false alarm."
Russia gave the American a suspicious look, still standing back. America just staggered over and grabbed his arm again, smiling at the larger man. "Y'know wha' we should do, man?"
Russia shook his head as he started strolling again. "No, I do not know, America."
"We shoul'...should totally have sex onna beach. Like...like that drink y'know only...only for real..."
Russia shook his head again, more emphatically. "No. I do not think that you are in any condition to be having sex, America."
America grinned and pushed Russia over towards one of the cabins. "C'mon...it's'll be fuuun... We...we c'n doit...on...onna porch. There." He pointed up at the patio of the cabin. Then he squinted up at the door. "I...I think'ats our room ‘nyways."
America let go of Russia's arm and stood below the patio, looking up the support beam. "Yeah...yeah tha's'it." He wrapped his arms around the post and started trying to climb it.
Russia simply stood back and watched as the other man would get a few feet off the ground before slipping off, then try to repeat the process. After several minutes of watching America's unsuccessful climbing attempts, Russia walked over, grabbed the young nation around the waist, and hoisted him up, only to hear a nauseous burp and a quiet moan.
After a moment, America managed to speak. "I...maybe y'shoul...put m'down... M'gonna barf..."
Russia gently set the American down and moved back again, watching him warily. After a few minutes, America finally took a deep breath and stood up straight again. "Kay...kay...m'okay again..."
He smiled and tried to swagger towards Russia sensually, but ended up shuffling over with his hips swinging out of time with his movements, then fell forward onto the Russian's chest. "C'mon...le's makeou..."
Russia frowned and pulled America upright. "You have nearly been sick twice, America. That is not a good idea."
America grabbed Russia's arm and dragged him back toward the support post. "S'okay...s'fine...m'fine now..." He spun around so Russia's back was against the pole, then pressed up against the large nation and started rubbing as they kissed.
Russia finally relaxed and wrapped one arm around America, rubbing his lower back as he felt his dick stirring again. He tilted his head back as America trailed sloppy kisses down his neck, grinding back against the blond as he started to get into the rhythm. He moved his hand from America's back down to squeeze and massage his ass.
He smirked as he heard America moan, then felt teeth sink into his neck. He pulled the younger nation close and rolled his hips against America as the other man jerked his hips.
Then America cried out and jerked his hips forward sharply before shuddering in Russia's arms. He pressed one last kiss to the large man's neck before sighing and pulling away with a sated look. "...'at was good..." he said as he smiled at the Russia. "I...I'mma gonna take a nap..."
Russia rolled his eyes briefly, then glared at the young nation as he curled up on the sand. He growled under his breath and picked up the heavy ball of America, trudging back towards the road to find their actual cabin. He somehow managed to juggle America, his bottle of vodka, and his room key and stepped into the cabin, setting America on the bed.
Then he walked back to the main room and picked up the telephone reciever, dialing the front desk. After two rings, the receptionist picked up the other end and said "Good evening. How can I help you?"
Russia glanced at the clock on the wall for a moment. "I would like breakfast delivered to my room in the morning, yes?"
"Alright, sir. What would you like?"
Russia glanced through the bedroom door at America. "Pancakes, coffee with creams and sugars, a plate of bacon, a plate of fruit, and a bottle of vodka."
"I...excuse me, sir. What was that last item?"
Russia smiled at the wall, clutching the phone tighter. "A bottle of vodka."
"I'm sorry, sir, but the kitchen doesn't serve alcohol for breakfast. Could I interest you in some juice instead?"
Russia just shook his head. "No. Simply tell the kitchen staff that the tall man with the scarf wants vodka. They will serve it."
The receptionist just smiled and wrote that down in the notes. "Of course, sir. Would you like anything else to drink just in case?"
"No, thank you. Just the coffee for my friend." He idly twirled his finger in the telephone cord.
"Alright, sir. I'll put your order in. What time do you want it delivered?"
Russia looked at the clock again, thinking for a moment. "Eight o'clock, please."
"Alright, sir. You have a good night."
He smiled and pulled his finger out of the cord. "You as well, miss. Goodnight." He hung up the phone and stripped out of his clothes as he walked into the bedroom. Then he climbed into bed with America in just his boxers and pulled the thin blanket over both of them.