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"You're late," Russia's glare narrowed into a sharp and barely existent snarl, America scrunching up his nose as he shoved past the other nation, barging in through the narrow hotel door frame. The superpower only huffed, kicking off his dress shoes off and taking in the small room. The hotel was nothing fancy, maybe a two-star on a really good day, with few people and few employees, the perfect discreet location for their secret rendezvous.
"Meeting ran late and I had some trouble shakin' the boss off my trail. Be glad I even decided to meet up with your sorry excuse for an ass," Alfred sneered, glowering over his shoulder as Ivan shut the door. There was a momentary pause before he heard the lock slide into place, the little click like the pin of a grenade being pulled free, the countdown to explosion under way.
Tick, tick, tick.
Alfred whirled around, whipping his pistol from his coat pocket as Ivan turned to face him, finding a rusted pipe pressed into his forehead as his rival stood across from him, that gleeful and disgusting smile stretched crazily across his face. "Ahaha! You have gotten so good at expecting this now, haven't you, сука?" Ivan laughed, grinding the tip of his weapon into Alfred's head as the other nation glared. "One hit and I would have your precious states all to myself to defile as I see fit!"
"You think that stupid pipe of yours can hurt me, commie?" Alfred laughed and then ducked into Ivan's instep, the other nation recoiling as he swooped in in a flash, jamming his gun right up under Ivan's chin, snarling venomously. "I've got a bullet with your name on it just itchin' to get acquainted with your brain…"
"Oh, perfect!" Ivan chuckled and lowered his weapon, slipping his pipe back into his coat before brushing aside Alfred's weapon, the other nation's arms slowly returning to rest position at his side. Russia brushed him aside at went to the mini fridge, humming as he bent over, making a little show of swaying his ass side to side. "I have a fun game for us to play this time. If you think you can handle it, my little сука."
"Shut your fucking mouth, I don't have all day for this. I've got to be at a dinner in two hours," Alfred huffed, pocketing his pistol before glancing at his fingernails, picking at them with a bored expression. Ivan's pleasant smile slowly fell into a scowl, the older man standing up with a frown as he opened his bottle of vodka.
"You make it very difficult to have a good time, don't you?" he huffed, taking a big gulp of it before capping the bottle off again, pulling out his gun from his coat. Alfred stiffened somewhat but was sure to not let it show, his eyes trained on the unpredictable nation.
But Ivan showed no interest in Alfred for a few moments, thoroughly engrossed in examining his gun, popping the cylinder out. Those dextrous hands pinched and pulled out the bullets out one by one, Ivan simply dropping them to the floor without a single care in the world, the metal clinking as it clattered on the ground.
"What are you doing?"
"Empty your gun, but save one bullet," Ivan ordered with a hum, demonstrating with his weapon before snapping the cylinder into place, giving it a spin to randomize his chance of landing on the single bullet he had saved. Alfred grinned, nodding along before doing the same, minus dropping his bullets to the ground. No point in making a mess, right? Then again, with the game they were going to play, the last thing he should be worrying about was the mess.
"You're a sick bastard, you know that?" America chuckled, spinning his cylinder a few times as Ivan guided him deeper into this devil's trap they had made for themselves out of the blood and torment of their citizens and their governments, this dark game played in the shadowy corners of their minds and in the deepest pits of their blackened hearts.
And, oh, America loved every minute of it.
He loved the waiting, he loved the impatient itch Ivan would force him to suffer through when he was out looking for somewhere new to take their game. He loved the snarls and the glares, he loved when Ivan would smile at him with murder on his lips and hatred in his eyes. He loved the kicks and the punches, he loved when that desperate fighting made way for possessive grabs and passionate kisses.
Oh, yes. It was fair to say Alfred was rather addicted to this little game of theirs.
And since Ivan was the one always orchestrating the details and the rules, it was fair to say he loved this relationship just as much.
"We fire at the same time," Ivan hummed as he stood across from Alfred, the two just a little bit in front of the foot of the bed, both sides standing tall and proud. America nodded slowly, making sure he took everything in. "If you lose, the winner gets to do whatever they want to the loser's body."
"Anything?" Alfred nodded slowly before frowning, shaking his hand quickly. Ivan frowned, groaning when Alfred made the shape of a T with this hands, grumbling under his breath as Alfred pulled the safe word. "Chubby bunny. Alright, look, dude… I've got an important thing I gotta go to later. Don't fuck up my clothes or I'll kill you, alright?"
"Fine, whatever," Ivan scoffed and shrugged his arms in annoyance, scowling at his partner as Alfred started to undress, ruining all of his fun. America stripped out of his bomber jacket, overshirt, shirt, and pants, leaving himself in only his boxers and undershirt. Alfred folded his dress clothes neatly, and then with a shrug decided to put his bomber jacket back on so Ivan could still have the idea that this was natural and not totally orchestrated.
"Ready!" Alfred chirped and drew his weapon in a flash, Ivan chuckling when he got to stare down the muzzle of the American's gun. He lifted his arm, the two aiming for each other's foreheads as they watched each other carefully.
"Well, on the count of three, then."
Tick.
Tick.
Click!
Letting out a shaking breath, Alfred slowly opened his eyes, getting a little anxious when neither of them went down on round one. With a laugh, Ivan chuckled and pulled his gun back to his chest, spinning the cylinder to randomize the chances again. Swallowing the thick lump in his throat that told him just to back out now, Alfred spun his gun as well, and, in unison with Ivan, snapped it back into place and took aim again.
Tick.
Tick.
Click!
The agonizing wait was starting to get to Alfred, Ivan chuckling as he watched the other nation shiver and twitch. Honestly, after two rounds of neither getting shot, Ivan was just getting bored. Regardless, it certainly was amusing to see Alfred start to fidget with anxiety, visibly getting riled up.
"Excited?" Ivan hummed casually, glancing down to the somewhat larger bulge in Alfred's shorts, the other nation growling at him darkly. America eyed him before sneering, the game put on hold so they could bicker.
"Yeah, I'm excited to shoot this bullet through your head," Alfred spat at him, but the shudder tingling up his back betrayed his anxiety over his chances of being the loser in this game. Russia smirked right back, lip twitching as he tried to force his smile back on his face.
"And what makes you so sure you will win?" he hummed casually, his trigger finger twitching from where he held it poised and ready to release. Alfred snickered and licked his lips, relaxing his shooting arm so he could give the cylinder another whirl. Before he could finish, however, Ivan lunged, catching Alfred in the chin with the butt of his gun. America hollered in surprise as pain ached through his face, grunting when Ivan rushed in and continued to beat him around the face with his weapon. The boisterous and cocky nation fell to the bed, limbs flailing as he tried to get away from the man attacking him.
"That's fucking cheating! Get off of m-!" he shouted, getting backhanded with the gun before Ivan aimed it at his forehead, Alfred laying limply as he stared up in terror at the other man.
Tick.
Tick.
BANG!
When Alfred finally started coming to, he was vaguely aware of a burning sensation in his ass, the smell of vodka rank in the air, and after a few moments he could tell there was blood. Lots, and lots of blood.
"F-fuck," he grunted, a hand gripping his mostly flaccid cock now that his body had been rejuvenated, new life having filled him. He moaned and arched, his limbs uselessly splayed around him as Ivan shoved into his ass roughly, making him cry out in pain. "C-cheater…"
"Silence, сука," Ivan growled with a smirk, smacking Alfred's battered face as he drove in hard, jostling the squeaky hotel bed and Alfred's barely conscious form. The younger nation rolled his head back into the stained and soiled pillow, still feeling some blood trickling down the sides of his face from where the bullet had entered and left.
Ivan had obviously been going at this for a while even when Alfred had been too dead to stop him, for he came within a minute or two, Alfred grunting at the burning feeling of being stuffed with Ivan's cum.
"F-fuck, Ivan…" Alfred moaned softly, having just started getting aroused, his cock at half-mast when Ivan had pulled out. His partner laughed and cupped his face with one hand, the other continuing to pump his beaten up lover. Losing himself to the raw feeling of his newly-virgin body being fondled, Alfred sighed breathily and gasped as something cold entered his ass. Ivan angled the thing upwards, the metal prodding against Alfred's prostate as if to milk him of all of his cum as quickly as possible.
Shuddering and clenching up, Alfred arched off of the bed with a needy moan, feeling himself approach the edge of bliss, guided by Ivan's teasing hands. "I'm close-" he shivered, weakly reaching out for Ivan, wanting to embrace him and hold him close, wanting to whisper sweet pleas for release in his ear, wanting to feel the weight of his lover. "O-oh god-!"
Bang!
Alfred's eyes went wide in horror, his brain taking a second as long as an eternity to process what had happened, his mind not even registering the scream he had unleashed into the air. His body clenched up in a spasm as blood splurted up from his stomach and out of his ass, the gun swiftly removed to avoid the rush of blood. He stared up in horror at Ivan as the other nation simply giggled back at him with that sadistic, gleeful little grin as Alfred once again bled out in front of him.
"I truly do hope that you aren't late for your dinner, сука," Ivan mocked him as he kissed the muzzle of his bloodied gun, licking up some of Alfred's blood before pocketing it, Alfred shouting incoherently at him as he simply left Alfred to the fading blackness of his almost-release and the reality of his situation.
There simply was no love in this relationship, only cruelty and games. Games that brought nothing but pain and suffering, not that Alfred truly minded. Even as he lay dying for one of the maids to find, he couldn't help but feel satisfied as he plotted out how he would get his revenge on his communist rival and sometimes lover.