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The sunlight that seeps in through silky shades slightly blinds him when his eyes blink themselves open. Ivan's facing the ceiling, letting his gaze roam along the white, bland color as he wakes up slowly from his hazy dreams. It’s quiet. Peaceful. His eyes flick to the clock – a little after ten. On a cool winter morning like this, all he wants to do is snuggle himself back into the sheets and fall asleep again.
If it wasn't for the fact that it's so cold. Colder than usual, that is.
Last night, before going to bed, Matt and Ivan made the horrific discovery that their heater had broken – and no matter how much they tried, they just couldn't figure out how to fix it. Why is their bedroom the only room without a radiator, anyway?
In the end they had to accept that, for one night, their blankets and sweaters would be all they could rely on to keep themselves warm until they could drive to the store on the next day and buy a new one.
It's not like they're not used to the cold, both of them from countries with ruthless winters, after all, but they much rather prefer it warm and cozy whenever possible.
So when Ivan hears some rustling beside him, it's no wonder that a frustrated little grumble follows. Ah, Matthew must've woken up.
Ivan stretches, then turns towards Matthew who's facing away, buried deep in his blanket. He wraps his arm around him and presses a kiss to his head.
“Good morning, солнышко ,” he mumbles, “You cold?”
“Mm, yeah, a little…” Matthew whines, settling into the embrace, “Slept like shit.”
“Mh-hm, I didn't have best night's sleep, either…”
Ivan caresses his chest over the blanket, hand big and kind and so, so soft. Then, he lifts it up and slips beneath it, their bodies now resting against one another as he holds him close.
Matthew sighs in relief, warmth slowly spreading down his back. Despite Ivan’s complaints about the cold, the Russian always has been pretty warm himself – except for his hands for some reason, ice-cold against his skin as he slips his fingers up Matt's sleeve. He flinches.
“Ngh, your hands…”
“Oh, right, I forgot. Извини .”
Ivan pulls back his hand, wrapping it around Matt’s waist instead. He buries his face in Matthew's shoulder as he presses him close and takes a deep breath in.
“You smell nice…”
There's no response, just silence. They lie like that for a little while, the quietude between them comfortable and safe, and Ivan’s about ready to doze off again.
But it’s not long until he notices that something’s up – Matthew's slight fidgeting giving him away. He attempts to move in Ivan’s grasp, but doesn't get anywhere. Ivan is about to loosen the embrace, but after a moment of deliberation, he changes his mind and only hugs him tighter. He smirks to himself.
There's a notable size difference between the two, not only in height, but frame and strength, as well. Ivan's much taller and bigger than Matthew, so he would practically envelop him whenever they hugged.
And, well, he likes to use that to his advantage.
He slides his hand a little further down, stopping at his lower tummy as he presses a kiss into the crook of Matthew's neck. He notices the blush that graces Matthew’s ear.
“What's wrong, hm…?” Ivan teases. He slips his hand beneath Matt’s sweater once again and rolls it up to his chest, this time squeezing at his tummy. Matthew sucks in a breath.
Suddenly, it isn't all that chilly anymore. Ivan feels his face heat up as the blood travels down his body right into his crotch. He clenches his jaw, uttering a quiet hiss.
He needs to relieve some pressure.
He slides his hand to the curve of Matthew's thigh, holding it in place as he shifts against him just a little. A sigh of relief once he presses up on him just right. It feels nice.
A little noise tumbles from Matthew's lips. He flinches when he feels something stiffening against him, but doesn't comment on it. He's way too busy blushing himself into oblivion as his mind begins to run all wild.
Meanwhile, Ivan realizes that that bit of movement wasn't nearly enough to satisfy. Another jerk of his hips follows, another, and another one. Matthew's breaths come hitched with every time that Ivan pulls him back towards him, rubbing their hips together, more force each time. He grabs at the pillow.
Rough nails dig into Matthew’s clothed thigh, and before either of them realize, they’re mindlessly rocking back and forth against each other.
“Matt–” Ivan hisses, quiet groans leaving his lips at the friction, the feel of Matthew close against him. He whispers something to himself, then moves his arm back up to embrace him again, this time wrapping his fingers gently around Matthew's neck. He feels his stressed pulse when his grip tightens for a moment, only to let go again.
He hears Matthew mumbling something unintelligible.
“What's that?” he asks in a breathy voice, then leans in and leaves a hickey near his shoulder. Heat blossoms in his chest. He feels all fuzzy.
Matthew visibly shudders and says, louder this time, “Fuck, I-Ivan, crush me. Please.”
Ivan feels his eyes fog up with desire, and his lips curl up into a smirk.
“Oh… So that's what you want, да?”
He trails his thumb from the line of Matthew's jaw, to his chin, down his Adam's apple and in between his collarbones, pressing down softly.
“Straight to the point today, aren't we? Cute…”
Matthew shivers, leaning back into Ivan's embrace as though wanting to be swallowed up whole, no trace of him to be left behind.
Any other time, the Russian would've kept teasing his boyfriend for much longer before giving him what he wanted, but right now, Ivan is unusually desperate. And he can't deny that he loves making him feel good, loves seeing Matthew enjoying himself, because of course he does – especially when he writhes beneath his weight, helpless and as pretty as he is.
So he shifts, grabbing Matthew by the shoulders and rolling him around so he lays face-down on the bed. He hovers over his frame for a while before gradually lowering himself.
Ivan's propped up on his forearms on either side of Matthew's head. He’s way heavier than Matthew, so he always has to be careful not to actually crush him, even though, truth be told – for Matthew, there’d probably be no better way to go.
Matthew gasps at the weight against his back as he feels himself slowly getting squeezed between his boyfriend and the bed. His crotch rubs up against the sheets and a breathy moan escapes his throat.
Suddenly, Ivan’s everywhere. His arms reach to settle around Matthew's chest, holding tightly as he keeps him close. It feels like air is slowly being drained right from his lungs, heart hammering rapidly against his chest, and it’s beyond exhilarating. Matthew whines and clutches to the pillow, his face pressed into it. He feels dizzy. Hot. So unimaginably hot.
Quiet moans are muffled against the pillow when Ivan’s hips jerk against Matthew’s, and he lets out a cry, pitched high and staggered, when he feels teeth sink into his skin. A mark is left in the juncture of his neck and shoulder, and Ivan continues to leave marks and hickeys all over Matthew’s back. Matthew shudders at the pain. It stings terribly, yet fills him with that sultry warmth that has sparks running down his nerves. He's intoxicated.
“Does it feel good? Do you feel warmer now?” Ivan rambles as he moves his hips with a little more force. He huffs with a smirk, his hot breath tickling Matthew’s ear, “Matthew. Hmm?”
Matthew's eyes are struggling to stay open, lids fluttering as he feels heavy yet so light he thinks he’s gonna drift away. Quiet calls of Matthew's name and sweet little praises keep raining down from Ivan's lips, and soon enough, he feels the knot tighten in his stomach as sweat graces his temples.
He raises himself and slips his hand out from beneath him. Matthew takes a deep breath, relieved, voice shaky as he heaves, his breathing getting faster by the minute. Ivan grabs him by the waist and pulls him up against him, delivering a few more sharp thrusts. Then, his vision blurs. He hunches over a little.
“M-Matt… I’m… I’m close. Mm–”
He cusses something in Russian as he comes into his pants, holding Matthew’s ass firm against his pelvis. He watches the fabric slowly being soaked in semen as he shivers.
He pants exhaustedly. Once he’s calmed down, he leans down to Matthew to kiss him on the neck.
“Matt?”
There is no response. Half of Matthew's face is pressed into the pillow, and Ivan wonders if he’s even getting enough air. He notices the tears that prick at the corners of his eyes and lets his hands travel up Matt’s sides. Then, Matthew finally speaks, voice heavy with the burden of both overstimulation and denial.
“P-please, Ivan, I… I wanna cum,” he begs between staccato breaths and in a quiet voice, so quiet it’s almost unintelligible, and Ivan smirks. Matthew’s so cute when he’s begging. He can’t help but indulge.
So he grabs his sides and flips him over in one swift motion, as though it takes no effort whatsoever, as though his weight is no more than a feather’s. Matthew gasps, the world a little hazy in his view. In this state, his brain always takes a second longer to grasp what is happening.
Only now can Ivan see the look on Matthew’s face. He’s a total mess, ecstasy so pure and honeyed written into his expression, face completely flushed. He winces at the lack of stimulation. His eyes are desperate. Ivan’s sure he can see them begging for his touch.
His gaze flicks down to Matthew’s crotch, and he realizes just how bad it is. Matthew is rock-hard, straining against his sweatpants, a little spot of pre-cum on the fabric. His legs are shaking. He whimpers in frustration.
“I-I– Let me cum, please, please , I’m so close, please–”
Oh, poor thing.
Ivan hooks his fingers beneath the hem of Matthew's pants, then pulls them down in one swift go.
“Hng–”
And that is all it takes for him to break, for him to arch his back off of the bed and come with a loud whine, white shooting up his stomach and his chest. His eyebrows furrow as his mouth falls agape, thighs stuttering in bliss, and he can’t stop spasms from shaking up his body.
Ivan’s eyes widen. His mouth curls into an o-shape, and he lets his fingers pass over Matthew’s twitching, softening cock. Matthew heaves, slowly coming down as his expression softens, too, eyes falling closed. Ivan grabs a tissue from the bedside table to wipe him clean, then bends down to spread kisses on his collarbone and neck before pulling down his sweater. Matthew draws exhausted arms around his shoulders, and Ivan reciprocates, embraces him and rests his head in the crook of Matthew’s neck.
They idle in silence for a while, calm in one another’s arms, before Ivan shifts a little. “Matt… My pants are feeling a little uncomfortable,” he giggles and Matthew reluctantly lets his arms off of him to allow him to sit back up. He caresses Matthew's thighs.
“Let’s go to shower, my love.”
“Mm, but I wanna go back to sleep.”
Ivan smiles, can’t not. He thumbs Matthew’s cheek.
“I know. But we have to get ready for the store,” he says as he gets off of him and sits on the side of the bed, sliding his feet into his slippers. Matthew turns and mumbles something along the lines of we have all day for that . He lays a hand on Ivan's thigh, squeezing the fat a little. A pleased sigh.
“You feel so nice and soft,” he hums, the corner of his lips twitching in a little smile. Then he sighs again and sits up, too, settling next to him. He presses a kiss to his cheek, and Ivan’s face blooms up with rosy blush. The winter sun’s still soaking the room in white and yellow, illuminating the little particles of shiny, floating dust.
It doesn’t feel cold anymore. Not with all the warmth their hearts hold for each other.
“Alright. Let’s get up, eh?”