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They entered the room together, escorted collectively by their respective officials. When the door shut behind the two, Russia walked over to a side table which along with two glasses a bottle of clear vodka had been left on a metal tray, and pouring a generous amount into one glass he extended his arm in an offer. America refused, for his brain felt too hot already.
‘Take it.’ Russia insisted. ‘I’d rather you not be more tense than is necessary.’ America hesitated, but he stepped forward and took the glass, and knocked it back in one swift motion. Russia sipped his own.
America then got to undressing in silence, shrugging off his jacket, then the simple white shirt that he wore underneath. He turned his back until he stood shirtless and bare-footed, only then did he face Braginsky in the dim light.
Russia, after emptying another shot, and keeping his gaze shy from America as he undressed, did similarly. He was much slower and less restless in unbuttoning his shirt and revealing the broad expanse of his chest.
When they faced each other Ivan lifted Alfred’s chin up to look at him with just a finger, offering a small smile in reassurance.
‘Brighten up, Amerika. You will find that I am not a disappointing bedmate.’
Alfred didn’t say anything, and turned his head away from Ivan’s manipulation rather quickly, opting to stare into the corner of the room with downturned eyes.
It was quite a drab arrangement but what could be done? At the end nations are completely at the will of their people. It’s ironic. They are unimaginably strong, supernatural and near immortal entities, but in the end they are just beasts tethered to man’s hand.
Alfred was rather displeased at having his own body and spirit leveraged for the sake of trade agreements. It went past physicality for him. He couldn’t help but to feel it was scarily intimate. Truthfully, it was, how could he suspend belief otherwise? It wasn’t a common arrangement between nations to consummate a treaty, at least not in modern days, but for two nations as highly regarded in the world sphere, and ones as volatile as Russia and America, humans considered it an extra necessity. Binding bodies meant they were less likely to go back on their agreement.
It was an apartment in Arkhangelsk, as negotiated by their officials. The room was simple, framed with dark wood, not very attractive Alfred thought but what part of this country was? Though out of the window he could see nothing but white and that at least filled the room with light despite nothing else having been lit. It was a dreary setting, made the two of them in the room alone together feel more tense, and gave Alfred the impression that Ivan was the only other living thing for miles.
Maybe that’s why it was easier to stand before Russia, because the heat that radiated from his body was reprieve from the landscape outside.
They were both taking in the sight of each other’s bodies now. Alfred’s breath grew shallow scanning the expanse of the taller man's scarred skin. The laws of physics didn’t bend for even them, and though Alfred’s abnormal strength was evident, Ivan had mass where he didn’t.
Ivan started by touching Alfred’s arms by his elbows, slowly sliding his hands down the heated skin to grasp his palms. The American’s skin was feverishly hot, and surprisingly soft, like melted butter. He still wouldn’t look at Ivan’s face, which frustrated him. He was trying to ease Alfred up to the experience, get him to open up through foreplay, but how was he to do that if he wouldn’t lift his gaze from the dusty floor?
Ivan tilted his head, trying to get him to look at him by peering in close. The younger man looked bothered by the proximity but didn’t try to dodge away. His hands were limp in Ivan’s hold.
Ivan sat on the bed, urging Alfred to do the same. But he was reluctant.
‘Come here.’ He motioned to sit on the bed. Alfred gave a wary look but came forward nonetheless. He crawled onto the sheets behind Ivan, back to but not quite against the pillows and linked his arms around his knees. Ivan just turned around and assumed position in front of him.
Ivan did want to kiss him, if just to make the experience enjoyable. So he leaned in and brought his hands to cup Alfred’s cheeks, but the American made it clear that he was not keen on even that.
‘No. I don’t want to.’ Alfred turned away, bringing a hand up to shield his face and get his point across, ‘Just get it on with.’
Ivan tugged his own pants down. He did see Alfred’s eyes lock onto his manhood when it sprung free from its confines. It was about the first time so far in this excursion that Alfred had looked at him directly. Russia stroked his member to get some blood rush to harden himself.
He liked how Alfred’s eyes felt when they were fixated on him. It was his first time, Ivan was sure. The American had just reached the age to be eligible for this kind of task, for nation standards at least. It gave Ivan some inclination to be gentler.
The American’s hand rested on his inner thigh near his crotch, not exactly cupping it but it’s clear he was at least subconsciously aroused at the display.
Ivan grabbed the waistband of Alfred’s pants and tried to peel them off. Alfred huffed, and smacked Ivan’s hands away to do it himself. When they were thrown off to the side he turned around and laid down on his stomach.
Ivan crawled forward to be above him a bit.
‘Are you certain you want to be like this?’
‘Yeah. Just get on.’
Ivan reached over and produced a vial of fragrance oil from his coat pocket. When he twisted the cap off the whole room was enveloped in the scent of citrus.
He dipped a finger in the oil and got to massaging Alfred’s entrance with it, whose breath hitched when he felt the contact. Ivan wanted him to get used to the touch but there was no use in prolonging the experience.
After circling the rim he slipped one digit in, and Alfred’s body stilled, but Ivan could feel how his inner walls pulsed warmly around him. Though his body was pliant, and he was soon able to push in another, gently pistoning them in and out, intent on stretching him out for the real penetration. He massaged the insides, dilating Alfred with two then three fingers, scissoring them all. Alfred was quite strained already, clutching the sheets with determination though Ivan hadn’t even gotten that deep yet. He pulled the fingers out and poured a substantial amount of the rest of the oil onto his stiff cock.
He leaned over the lean body, placing one hand on the side of Alfred’s head and the other he used to guide his cock to Alfred’s entrance. When the wet cockhead met Alfred’s hole he gasped lowly. The lubrication on it was cold already from the open air. Ivan teased it for a moment while Alfred held his breath and shut his eyes in preparation.
When he found give he started to push in and Alfred kept his eyes tightly closed and gripped the sheets between white knuckles. When the head was in it did start to stretch and sting a little and Alfred’s body clenched to prevent further intrusion.
‘You need to relax.’ He said. ‘Or you will hurt us both.’ Alfred didn’t really want to relax. He wanted his body to be uncompliant. If anything, he wanted it to be painful, for then it meant he wasn’t susceptible to it, even more so if Braginsky was also in pain. But there was no way around it, it’d have to happen one way or another, and there was no use in making it harder than it has to be.
So he tried to relax, tried to take a deep breath of air through the sheet he’d pressed his face into. He felt Braginsky run a hand down the chilled muscle of his shoulder blade, and he felt repulsed by the action, how old nations always grapple for a sense of intimacy even in debauchery.
It took a few minutes of massaging the remaining oil into his back to help him untighten enough to let Braginsky push the rest the way in. It helped when he grabbed hold of both sides of Alfred’s waist. The last few inches were tough, but this time Ivan didn’t stop, even when Alfred’s legs kicked out, and it brought heat blooming in Alfred’s pelvis.
When their hips pressed flush against each other both breathed sighs of relief, Alfred more so, for the descent was tense and climactic. He felt uncomfortably full when Ivan, in his full length, stilled inside of him, but he exhaled particularly hard onto his shoulders, as if he was wondering if he should say something.
It was a few more seconds of them breathing out loud until Ivan said, ‘I’m starting now.’
Ivan started at a steady pace, pistoning out and in short and quick. It made Alfred take a sharp intake of breath and brace himself and it didn’t feel particularly pleasurable at all. It didn’t feel as bad as he had expected, he half prepared for his insides to be torn apart when Braginsky entered, but it also wasn’t very good, just a foreign thing piercing him.
He could feel Ivan let out a hot breath of frustration onto his nape. It made him shudder when it hit the crevice of his body. Why did he care? Well, Alfred didn’t need to come, did he? They just needed to be bound by body. Ivan just needed to come inside of him.
He found it helped a little if he wasn’t completely resistant so he lifted his hips up a bit if just to make it easier on himself. Ivan gave a low grunt of appreciation behind him.
Something pleasurable spiked and Alfred trembled as he felt heat build in his pelvis. The friction on his insides was starting to grow hotter and he felt a familiar tightening that meant his arousal was building.
Alfred’s shame burnt his face bright red hot. Ivan could see it from the back as he slid in, even down the back of Alfred’s neck did it look feverish. He took the moment to appreciate the teen’s backside as it trembled in time to his thrusts, lean muscles flexing under burnt-clay skin, strong arms supporting himself on the mattress. It looked beautiful against the attractive deep blonde of his hair. He only wished he could see the American’s eyes, and the pleasure displayed on his face if Ivan could be awarded it, but he understood that this position was likely easier physically, and emotionally for him.
It made Ivan feel rather possessive at that moment. If only he could make the young American his own, and keep this youthful body to fuck at his pleasure.
Ivan jutted his hips down particularly hard and Alfred gasped in true pleasure, mouth gaping as he felt the particular depth of it. Oh, what would Arthur think!
Alfred pressed his cheek down and closed his eyes into total darkness and tightened his hold on the sheets next to his head. It was becoming far too overwhelming to feel the movement inside of his body, Ivan’s presence covering him and to look at the detailed wooden bed frame in front of him.
Ivan reveled in the feeling of Alfred’s entrance clenching the base of his cock whenever he sunk all the way in. He was quite big, not to brag, but Alfred took him for all that he was. Alfred was gasping and he even ever so slightly pushed his hips back up against that thrusting cock.
It only made Ivan speed up his thrusting to think in the covetous way he was, and he could see how Alfred’s fingers curled into the sheets by his head as a way to brace himself against the grueling pace. He was surprisingly quiet, save for small bursts of whines and grunts, though they were mostly drowned out by the thumping of the bed. Ivan was going quite hard for what it was worth. He did not need to be doing all of that!
But any opportunity to think harder was quickly swept away as Ivan gripped one of Alfred’s thighs, raising it to reach deeper. Alfred whined at the insolence of being moved like this but didn’t resist the motion. His whole body had started to feel too hot to do anything, his muscles too lax, and the movement in and out of his lower half basically disarmed him. It really did turn him into a sniveling mess, the sensation of Ivan sliding in and out of his sensitive hole just to hit extremely deep into his intestinal walls, it overtook his body and soul.
He glanced at the pale face of the man inside of his body and quickly looked away. How was anyone not supposed to fall in love?! He moaned particularly audibly and now being fucked on the side by him he could see Ivan’s smirk in his peripheral vision. I mean, not that he could love Braginsky, but the vulnerability Alfred was feeling right now goes far beyond trade agreements!
Ivan seemed to find encouragement in Alfred’s verbal confirmation so he raised Alfred’s leg higher, pressing the back of the thigh firmly against his chest and letting the other one hang so Alfred’s lower half was elevated off of the bed and he was being impaled sideways onto the Russian’s cock.
He needed something to hold onto, to keep himself grounded to this earthly plane, so Alfred grasped onto a pillow as his body was pulled down onto the waiting cock. He could tell Ivan was getting very into it and all he could do was yield himself to it.
Ivan very much liked the idea of Alfred at this point. He’d usually get depressed at this point in the sex, growing quite existential at the meaningless of it all, but all he could focus on now was the hot, writhing body underneath him.
It seemed that even at his lowest, most rawest moments the American demanded attention. It softened Ivan to think that that’s how he was naturally, unintentionally, and not that the radiance was some manipulative act he kept up on the world stage. But of course, these were fleeting thoughts in the throes of sex, and once he’d meet the American in the business room he’d judge him just as clearly as he did before.
He could feel himself swell uncomfortably with a rush of blood, confirmed by the American’s muffled groans, and the movement required more effort. Moving his eyes up from where his cock disappeared into Alfred’s body, Ivan’s gaze travelled to Alfred’s face, but he found that he had covered it completely with the pillow. Why would he do that? Ivan didn’t like that, but he also couldn’t stop now, the sensation was too intense to stop his movement.
‘Look at me.’ He demanded. He knew the American heard him with how he shifted, but he did not relent.
‘Look at me, malenkiy.’ Ivan tried again, adding the endearment to sound sweeter, he actually feared he might’ve upset Alfred a little which is why he would be hiding. He wanted this to be a pleasing experience for Alfred, for him not to be nervous and to want to come back and be willing to do this again with Russia.
To Ivan’s delight Alfred did tear his face away from the pillow, and looked up at Ivan with glassy eyes. In those few thrusts they shared a very knowing look between each other. This was them, bare and spread before the other, forced to commit the most intimate act just as if they were breeding stock. Ivan’s heart did pang a little as he got lost in those eyes, which did hold betrayal, and fear, not for what the country of Russia was capable of but for what the man was.
Alfred still held the pillow to his chest and had it pressed under his chin as he was fucked. Did he need something to hold onto?
Ivan wanted to try it, so holding the American’s hips to make sure his legs hooked around his waist he rotated Alfred fully onto his back. In the flip Alfred’s grip left the pillow, and Ivan stilled his thrusts for a moment before slamming particularly deep back inside so hard that it would have shattered bones if Alfred was anyone else.
‘Ah-h!’ He threw his head back and gasped, and Ivan quite liked the noise. It proved a challenge to make the American talk, as ironic as it was but oh, wasn’t it so rewarding.
The American’s body relaxed from the hit of pleasure, and Ivan could tell he was close to climaxing by his bobbing red cock. He just couldn’t look away from Alfred’s face now, whose mouth displayed pearly white, gritted teeth. Now being able to see it in this new position his darkened eyes were intensely concentrated at the place between their legs.
How lewd of him, did he enjoy the sight of their connection that much?
Ivan decided to focus on the American’s pleasure because it had been so satisfying to see those lips part in a silent cry of bliss. It aroused him more than the actual sensations around his cock, though the tight tugs on his length by those velvet walls felt amazing. He wanted to see if he could elicit a scream from the boy. Anyway, he was nearing his own end soon, and he wanted Alfred to meet him there.
He wrapped his fingers around the American’s needy cock, pumping it up in time with his thrusts. Biting his lip, Alfred’s eyes did flash briefly from their thrusting sexes to Ivan’s face but quickly went back.
Ivan lowered his body to be parallel above Alfred’s own, still pumping his hips between the spread legs, but now it felt different. More intimate. Alfred didn’t know what to think of it when Ivan’s alcoholic breath met the corner of his neck and ear. Instinctively, he moved his arms up to wrap around the neck that Ivan offered.
Ivan’s hand again found Alfred’s cockhead, and it made him hiss. He gave it a few pulls up and down, thumbing the tip, and with the continuous tug on his insides, it was what Alfred needed to push him over the edge, for the rope to snap and for him to come undone between both of their heated bodies.
Ivan’s bucks proved fatal as Alfred’s whole body tensed with the descent, even his fingers were paralyzed clawlike and his eyes shut tightly as he buried his head under Ivan’s chin and it all held even as Ivan kept thrusting into the stiffened body. He inhaled sharply and bit his lip bloody and his ecstasy was quiet as waves of pleasure crashed over every nerve in his body.
He gave several shaking exhales of relief and he didn’t even notice that Ivan was drinking them all up. Alfred’s toes were still tingling from the aftermath but Ivan never faltered in his entry.
Russia leaned straight back on his knees again, Alfred’s grip around his neck naturally loosening to allow for such, for he could not thrust particularly hard being so close, and the position would have been better suited for lovers than partners in a treaty.
His final thrusts before completion were hard and rough, and even though it really was the only way Ivan could come these days, this time it was purely for the reason of wanting the American boy to feel it, all of him, to make him remember his shape, and needing pain had nothing to do with it. Alfred’s eyes closed in a grimace, for his dick was limp and his body was numb and he no longer felt the pleasure of being taken, and so Ivan came fast, growling, holding those tan hips flush against his groin and releasing himself deep. Alfred shuddered at feeling Ivan implant him with his seed, and against the deep burn of his inner walls the Russian’s spend felt icy. He almost went to hold Ivan in that moment, because the man went so deathly still that it’d felt as if he’d shatter from the pressure.
The formalities were over, but Ivan did not leave his body until both of their breathing stilled. When it did, the boy watched Ivan’s face from beneath blonde bangs as he retracted his soft cock from between Alfred’s spread legs. With the withdrawal a stream of come followed, Alfred could only look gravely at the thin substance dripping out of him.
Ivan seemed to want to drag out the moment. Alfred kept watching him because he did not trust him.
Alfred did look quite pitiful in that moment, like a wolf with a shattered maw watching something approach it, but his nose wrinkled into a look that portrayed disgust. It amused Ivan, because he could tell that the boy didn’t know what to do now, and he wondered if left behind would he just stay frozen in that same spot all night.
Ivan got up off the bed and disappeared into the attached bathroom for a moment, grabbing a hand towel. Alfred was in the same place.
‘Clean up.’ Ivan said, handing the towel to Alfred. He used the towel first to swipe the sweat off of his arms and chest then clean up the mess on his stomach and between his legs. The weight of the remaining spend inside was giving him a particularly sickly feeling but he didn’t know what he was supposed to do about that.
Alfred watched from his place on the bed as Ivan pulled up his pants and fixed himself up in the middle of the open room like a show to demonstrate that he really was no threat at all. Alfred could only deal with the horrible feeling of being inexplicably tied to him.
As Ivan was putting on his boots he said, ‘I hope I proved to you that I am not a bad lover after all.’ Ivan wasn’t the kind of man to just take and leave, so he offered that bit, looking amusedly at his partner for the time. The word ‘lover’ hung in the air between them like a dead bird, and Alfred just stared at him.
‘No, I suppose it wasn’t bad for a Commie.’
Of course America couldn’t take it for long until he had to shatter the illusion. But what could one expect from a Capitalist?
Russia didn’t say anything when he left, the whole affair was very breathless and quiet after all, but he did give America a smile when he put on his scarf and opened the door.
And that was that, the Russo-American treaty bound not by ink on paper or a handshake but by the mixing of sweat and semen between two bodies.