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2:30	By : tamasama Category: +G to L > Hetalia: Axis Powers Views: 1543 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Axis Powers: Hetalia. I make no money from the creation or distribution of this work.

Chapter List
- 1-2:30
- 1
Additional tags: Abuse, S&M
It was two-thirty in the morning and my shift at the hotel had finally ended. It was a dull job, unrewarding and tedious, but it kept the bills paid. Not on it's own, of course. There was no way I could have afforded my swank Chicago condo on such a shoddy wage. No, I only held a job as part of an agreement between my parents and I; if I stayed employed they paid most of my bills and tossed a little extra my way when I needed it. If I wasn't working for too long they would reel me back home to the dull life of preparing to replace my father as the head of my family's company when he died. I was second in line behind my brother, and I doubted he was going to give up his first-born right any time soon.
Matthew, the son they went so far out of their way to keep out of the public eye, the head of the Williams Insurance Brokerage? I don't think so.
I sat in my silver Audi R8, tapping my fingers on the steering wheel and trying to tongue a little bit of burger out of my teeth. Crappy talk radio was droning on in the background as I contemplated what to do with my night. The light was going to turn green soon, and I was at a humorously literal crossroads. An intersection that would probably decide what the rest of my week would be like. If I turned left I could go home, take a hot shower, then curl up on the couch and watch a movie. Probably see a tit or two about halfway through and decided to swap whatever film would be on for some porn and do the deed, then go to sleep. Or more believably, head down to a nearby bar and try my luck with the patrons. Spend the rest of the week taking care of the errands I still needed to do, maybe look around for a new SAA group, maybe call my doctor friend and apologize for coming on to him at the bar last weekend and causing that fight. Or I could turn right and drive down to east Van Buren Street, veritable hub of culture and hoity-toity cafes, to my on-and-off boyfriend's house and see if he was still mad at me. If he was I would be in for a good hard punch to the gut, if he wasn't I could look forward to something better than a quick game of rub-and-tug or an irritating partner hunt. But he had been pretty mad the last time I had seen him. Mad enough to slug me in the face so hard I ended up spitting a tooth out into a red-streaked puddle of saliva and blood.
All over some stupid flowers. I knew they were important to his job and all, but I had apologized. "Oh gosh Ivan, I'm really sorry!" I had said, more like squeaked, trying not to slip in the water I had spilled all over the floor or step on the sharp shards of the flowers' broken pot. He wasn't too much taller than me, but my god could he be frightening. He had snatched me by the front of my shirt and pulled me in close to growl something at me in Russian I didn't need to understand. I would be lying if I said the intensity in his eyes hadn't turned me on a little. Anyway, I had babbled out a long line of apologies before finally falling quiet and adverting my eyes. The more I said, the angrier he seemed to become. He had paced around a bit, never moving far enough to let me shuffle out of the room like I wanted to. He had talked himself through it in a mixture of Russian and stilted English (his accent always came on thick when he was mad or really into fucking me). He looked at me, the mess, me again, then frowned deeply. Before I had a chance to say anything he punched me in the face and the rest is history.
So maybe going there wasn't the best idea. I had been avoiding his calls for the past week, so we had never worked it out. I didn't really want to, but I was trying to take my friend (the doctor who I had offended in the bar)’s advice.
"Quitting cold turkey is bullshit." He had told me once. He was holding a half-eaten powdered sugar doughnut in one hand and a Styrofoam cup of sugar and creamer-drowned coffee in the other. I raised an eyebrow at that, because it was pretty much the complete opposite of what the meeting leader had been saying.
He pushed the last of his snack into his mouth and kept on talking around the food. "Seriously I tried that shit back in the day and ended up having one hell of a crazy weekend. It's, like..." He took a moment to think, swallowing what he had been chewing, and lifted what was left of his doughnut in front of my eyes. He popped the last of the treat into his mouth before he continued. "It's like food! Let's say you've got an eating problem, right? Like, binge eating."
I nodded and sipped my own cup of the nasty instant coffee SAA meetings always seemed to have.
"Okay so all that eating made you fat, right? So you decide that you need to quit eating too much, so you start a super restrictive diet. An anorexia-level diet. So you eat a slice of bread and a glass of water or whatever every day," he took a moment to grab a chocolate-covered doughnut and take a bite, "and you eat like that for two whole weeks, see? Well you know what'll probably happen after those weeks, or even sooner if you wanna be realistic?"
"What would happen?"
"Huh?"
"What would happen?" I asked again, shifting my weight a little. I didn't know who he was at the time so I was a little unnerved by some random guy talking my ear off while he gorged himself of pastries. I let my gaze move over his body as he spoke. Damn he was attractive, even rambling and stuffing his face like that. Basically the same build as me, healthy-looking blond hair, bright blue eyes behind wire frames. His white shirt was slightly rumpled and only partially tucked in to his dark slacks. He was wearing a dark blue tie but it was little more than looped haphazardly around his neck. At first glance I assumed he was a lazy student majoring in something silly like philosophy.
"You gotta speak up man, I can barely hear ya!" He let out a long, loud laugh and I just kind of shrugged and offered him an airy half-chuckle. "Well anyway, after eating next to nothing knowing that you have an eating problem, you'll just binge harder than ever before! You'll clear out your whole kitchen! You getting what I'm saying here?"
He didn't wait for me to reply. "You can still get laid, but narrow it all into one single person. That way you won’t fuck-starve but you'll still be in control enough to get better."
"That... That actually makes a lot of sense." I said, astonished that his long-winded example had actually gone anywhere. I knocked back the last of my coffee and extended a hand to him. "Matthew Williams."
He held his doughnut in his mouth, wiped his hand on his pants, and then took mine to give it a few energetic pumps. "Alfred Jones." He announced past the treat between his lips.
A couple of quick honks from behind me started me out of my memories and I noticed that the light was green. That was right, I was at an impasse. I had forgotten.
Left? Left was home, left was certainty, left was responsibility and getting to sleep on time and a decided lack of sex and pain.
Right? Right was Ivan, right was a fifty-fifty chance between a hot lay and a busted nose, staying up at all hours of the night to wake up for work the next day exhausted and sore no matter how things played out.
It was an easy choice, of course. I swung a right.
When I pulled into Ivan's driveway, I wasn't surprised to see that some of the lights were on inside. He had always been a bit of a night owl. I tried to fix my hair in the visor mirror before I got out of the car, pushing blond curls this way and that until I looked presentable (except for that one long springy lock that always refused to obey). I leaned in a bit and pulled my glasses from my face to be sure that there were no crusts stuck in my tear ducts. After I was sure I looked good, I put my glasses back on and hummed in approval. Taking a moment to steel my resolve, I got out of the car. I locked it and went up to the front door to knock.
I swayed back and forth a bit and eyed the small yard. This was prime property he was sitting on. Brown Italian-style home, a functioning yard, even a nice catalpa tree next to the living room window. His herbology, or whatever it was he did for a living, sure did pay well to provide him with the means to rent such a nice home in a great location. I knocked again and pulled my mobile out of my pocket to check the time. Only about three am, it wasn't too late. He should have been awake. I reached up to knock again when the door swung open and I was yanked into a crushing hug.
"Matvey!" Ivan said excitedly, pulling me inside and slamming the front door shut. "I am so glad to see you, I had feared you would not speak to me again!"
I had been avoiding him. How many of his texts had I deleted? They had ranged all across the spectrum, from pretending nothing ever happened, to profuse apologies, then threats, and all the way down to long-winded messages begging me to talk to him. After he had pulled off the entire cycle in about two hours I had started deleting them without bothering to read what they said. Thirty missed calls the first night, each with their own little message. Twenty-five the day after that, almost fifty the night after. All rapid-fire, one after another, each accompanied by long voicemails that cycled the same as the text messages. He had asked normally, demanded, joked, and even left six interconnected and weeping messages full of promises of suicide. I hadn't really worried though; he often threatened himself when threatening me didn't work. As of yet, he hadn't done anything too serious to himself so I chose to ignore it.
"Hi, Ivan." Was all I could think to say but he didn't seem to hear me past his own talking.
"-I was worried that I would be needing to go and find you and bring you back to me!" He finished, finally letting me go and allowing me to kick my shoes off to arrange them by the door. He preferred people to not wear shoes inside and I never complained. His carpets were amazingly plush.
He stepped back to allow me further into the house, his violet eyes shining with happiness. He looked a little tired. Not quite run down, but on the way. Silvery blond hair, round face, nose a little larger than was considered conventionally attractive but matched him well. V-neck dark grey sweater (he seemed to have some issues regulating his body temperature and got cold easily, so he often wore sweaters and coats even in summer) and relaxed black pants. The strong smell of booze thick on his breath and a Bic pen tucked behind his ear told me that he had been working before I showed up.
"Are you busy?" I asked, "I can come back later if you are."
"I am never too busy for you." He replied, leaning down to land a little peck of a kiss on the corner of my mouth. He sat me in the living room and went into the small kitchen to fuss around, raising his voice to be heard over the clinking of dishes and sound of running water. He asked me where I had been, what I had been doing, why I hadn't contacted him for so long. He came back into the room with two mugs of fragrant herbal tea and a small plate of cookies.
"Well, I've been working a lot and taking care of some things..." I took a sip of my tea. "I spent some time out with Alfred this-"
"Who is Alfred?" Ivan asked from his seat beside me on the couch, taking the pen from behind his ear and setting it onto the coffee table. His tone of voice was sharper than I think he wanted it to be.
"The doctor, you've met him. Blond guy, glasses, talks too much?"
He relaxed a bit and set his cup onto one of the dark brown coasters with a sigh. "I remember him, he was very stupid."
A couple of months back Alfred, his wife Lilly, Ivan and I had all gone on a double-date. Alfred had planned it. He said that he was curious about who I was seeing. He often asked me about Ivan and our relationship. Concerns about the excessive amount Ivan called and texted me, constantly checking to see where I was and who I was with. Various questions about where so many bruises, cuts, and scrapes had come from. I always just laughed it off, telling him not to worry about it. I couldn't very well look him straight in the eye and tell him that my kind-of boyfriend kicked my ass regularly, and I let him. That I liked it; the intensity of the attention. How when he was hurting me, be it out of anger or in the sack, I felt like I was his entire world and I reveled in it. All of those messages and calls and checkups reminded me that I was on someone's mind for longer than it took to walk out of a room.
So I had just shrugged and said it was nothing.
"Matvey," Ivan said, distracting me from my thoughts. "I love you."
"I know. Thank you." I muttered, looking away with a little blush. He never seemed to mind that I never returned the sentiment outside of sex, and I was fine leaving things the way that they were. I let out a little squeak of surprise and struggled not to spill my drink when he suddenly grabbed me and pulled me into his lap.
He started dotting little kisses along the back of my neck. I shuddered as his warm breath poured over my skin when he spoke. "I love you so much... More than drinking, more than flowers, more than my work..." Well that was saying a lot. He was always one to over-exaggerate. I hissed a little in pain when he suddenly bit me, almost hard enough to break the skin of my shoulder. "More than my life."
That's creepy, Ivan. You're creepy. I thought, wiggling a bit to set my cup down before I ended up spilling it. If this was turning into another "If you leave me I'll find you, kill you, then myself" thing I was going to excuse myself and go home.
"Matthew." Oh, he was getting serious. He never called me that.
"Yeah?"
His soft voice and hot breath in my ear shot little bolts of pleasure straight to my groin. "I am going to hurt you, and fuck you, and choke you until you pass out. Is that alright?"
At least he was polite enough to ask.
I gulped, trying to think through my options while ignoring his hands trailing along my thighs. If I said yes, I would get laid. Saying no would probably hurt Ivan's feelings and put him into a slump, and those were the worst. He was just so down and grumpy like that, and I didn't like it. I would never have actually called him after the first time we messed around if I didn't like his personality a little bit. I preferred Ivan airy and light and letting him have his fun would help to keep him that way. But, if I said yes it would also open me up for some less than gentle treatment. Choking me was one thing, but until I passed out? Spooky.
What if I died? Ivan had a way of taking things too far at times. He rarely listened to me when I asked him to rein it in a little. It could be a replay of a time a few months back, not too long after we had started seeing each other. His fingers laced in my hair, pushing my head down and forcing me to take his cock into my throat so far that I was left choking and gagging and passively registering the drool on my chin with mild disgust. The irritation at the back of my throat made my eyes well with tears. I had tried pushing away just a bit, because regardless of how amazingly hot I was finding the whole situation I was starting to feel a little light-headed and my gagging was getting worse and worse with each thrust. When my stomach rolled harshly, I let out a kind of whine to try and let him know to let up. I was going to throw up; I was actually seriously going to throw up if he didn't give me just a second to-
He had shoved me further down, until it hurt and I felt like my throat was being ripped apart, and came. My stomach clenched and a retch of hot vomit, thin and primarily alcohol, spewed out over his dick and down my chin. I yanked myself back and the last of it splattered out across the ground. I stayed hunched there a moment, coughing and grimacing at the mixed flavor of cum, bile and booze on my tongue. Ivan just chuckled and took my chin in his fingers to tilt my face up to him.
"You are most beautiful just like this." He leaned in and kissed me, seemingly unbothered by the little chewed up hunks left over from whatever it was I had eaten that day when he slipped his tongue into my mouth. I stayed where I was, torn between pulling away and kissing him back. In my hazy booze-addled mind I wanted to return it, but... the fact that he was kissing me at all after I had yakked was pretty disgusting. He pulled away slowly and a thin rope of fluid connected us for a moment. It broke when he smiled.
Ivan nipped me on the ear and ground his hips up against my ass, tearing me from my thoughts. "Is it alright if I choke you?"
"Y-yeah." I muttered breathily. At some point during my little trip down memory lane he had started slowly rutting against me. The bulge of his hardening dick poking against me threw all interest in wellbeing out the window. I let out an undignified squeak when he pushed me off, stood, and grabbed me by the wrist.
"Wha-" I started when he began pulling me out of the living room.
"Bedroom." He pushed me into the room and shut the door behind himself. "I am glad for the enthusiasm, but I would like you to be comfortable for this."
Oh. Well that explained it. I raised an eyebrow and turned around to look at him when I heard the mute click of the door's lock. Was there a reason to be worried about me running away? A little unnerving. I didn't have a chance to say anything about it before he took two quick steps towards me and shoved me down on the bed much harder than was necessary. As he climbed over me I couldn't help but shudder. Powerlessness was an exhilarating feeling. I liked being in charge too, or just equal, but sometimes I just wanted to lay back and let stuff happen. This was one of those times.
He dropped down over me and cast a disarming smile before leaning in to kiss me long and slow. His lips were smooth and lukewarm. I welcomed the gentleness. It was calming after the stressful few days I had been having. I wrapped my arms lazily around the back of his neck, not actually hugging as much as passively holding. Ivan slid his tongue over my lips once and I happily opened up to allow the probing appendage inside. I hummed in delight at the taste: strong alcohol mixed with something sweet. My eyes fell shut and I moaned softly into his mouth when he slid his left hand up and under my shirt to lightly brush my nipple.
I was a little disappointed when he finally broke the kiss and leaned up to straddle me. He took my wrist in his hand and lifted it closer to hold my palm against his cheek and nuzzle it a bit before speaking. "I love you Matvey," a few peppered kisses across my wrist and when he continued his voice shook a little, "please don't make me think you are leaving me again."
I noticed a few tears in his eyes before he blinked them back. He was having a heck of a moment, apparently. "I'm sorry I scared you."
He didn't appear to be listening, if his quiet muttering and faraway look said anything. I couldn't quite hear what he was saying but he had that look on his face that he normally got when he was trying to get me to agree to a double-suicide pact or something equally insane. A kind of dreamy look that held a startling intensity underneath. After a few quiet seconds had passed, he returned his attention to me and tightened his grip on my wrist so suddenly that I yelped. He let out a little purr of pleasure at my little whines and his smile became more feral when I tried to pull away.
His hold became tighter and tighter and every time I tried to yank my hand away he just laughed. "Please, Ivan, s-stop." I muttered through clenched teeth, wincing as he slowly began to turn my wrist in an awkward and painful direction.
Ivan dropped my hand and leaned back down to kiss along my neck. He pulled the collar of my shirt down a bit to lightly press his cool lips along my collar bones. I wriggled out of my shirt when he motioned for it, then tossed the article over onto the floor. He dotted kisses and a few harder-than-necessary nips down my chest and past my belly. His violet eyes, shadowed with the dusky bruises of tiredness, flicked up and met mine as his teeth closed gently over my zipper. He held my gaze as he slowly pulled it down then hooked his fingers in the waist of my jeans and pulled them off. I sucked in a sharp little breath when he leaned back down and placed a soft kiss on my clothed dick before tugging my boxers down as well.
Ivan tossed the fabric onto the floor and took me in his hand. He gave it a few pumps and I remembered again why I was so thankful for his occupation. He didn't do much manual labor and because of it his hands were very soft. Not soft like a woman's, but not the scratchy and calloused ordeal many men seemed to have. I was already hard from the earlier touches he had been giving me and he wasted no time getting to business. He kissed the head and I sighed a little at the feeling. Not particularly erotic, but satisfying just the same. He smiled at me - he had the cutest dimples - and then moved to take all of me into his mouth in one fluid motion.
I gasped at the hot feeling of his wet mouth engulfing me. I felt his tongue slide firmly over my dorsal vein then swirl in a few slow circles around my cock as he slowly moved back up to the tip. The suction was just perfect; not too little but not overzealous. He bobbed up and down, swirling and rolling his tongue, taking me deeper with each pass until I felt the tip slide into his throat. He swallowed and I let out a low groan at the sensation of his throat constricting. I let my legs fall further apart so he could stroke my thighs while he worked. He hummed softly, sending delicious little vibrations over my cock, and let his hand slip up my thigh to cup my balls. I threaded my fingers through his thick hair and looked down at him. He looked so good gazing up at me, those beautiful indigo eyes dark with lust and my dick held firmly between his pale pink lips.
He gave it another good long lick from base to tip before coming off and just using his hand instead. "I missed this. Everything about you is just so..."
Ivan tilted his head and let his eyes shut, a soft smile settling onto his features. When he was happy he always reminded me of a big kid. He would often complain that he felt his face was too round, his nose too big, his voice too high but I was always quick to assure that those features were a good thing. I wouldn't want him any other way. I liked his baby face, I liked how strongly he reacted to things, I liked his solid frame and I liked his simple country boy demeanor. Some days he seemed fine with himself but other days he felt nothing but disgust. He would stare at himself in the mirror and wonder aloud why he looked the way he did, why he acted the way he did, and he would lament being himself until he would pull away to shuffle back to bed. He would lay there and pout while I tried to assure him that, to me, he was...
"...Perfect." He finished happily.
I flushed at the comment and adverted my eyes. "I wouldn't say all of that."
Ivan patted my thigh and then rolled to the edge of the mattress to flop over it and dig around under the bed. He came back up with a bottle of lube and squirted some of it onto his fingers. After taking a moment to warm it up he slipped two fingers down the cleft of my ass to brush against my hole. I winced when they slipped into me. It always felt a little funny at first. He was always very slow and deliberate while prepping me and I greatly appreciated it. Getting a little rough in bed was one thing, but tearing something was out of the question. I gasped when his fingers brushed over my prostate and I started moving my hips a bit to try and get better friction.
He kept up his slow ministrations while he moved up my body to press his lips on mine in a somewhat harsh kiss. Even when he probed his tongue into my mouth, he never moved his hand any faster. It was agonizingly slow and he was massaging simple patterns across my sweet spot with every pass. He added a third finger, and finally a fourth. I gasped at that last one, the feeling of my ass being stretched too good. Once Ivan felt sure I was loosened up enough he slowly extracted his digits from me and stood to strip out of his clothes. He got his foot caught in his pants and had to hop around a bit in order not to lose his balance and fall. I laughed quietly and he finally managed to get them off all of the way.
"Stop laughing!" He huffed childishly, stripping out of his pair of dark grey boxer briefs.
"Sorry." I snickered, covering my mouth with one hand and waving with the other as if to say 'don't worry about it, you're fine.'
Ivan crawled over to seat himself comfortably between my legs and pour a good amount of lube into his hand to slick himself with. I bit my lip in a giddy kind of apprehension. I always got a little intimidated before he put it in. I mean, let's be honest here; Ivan was huge. That knowledge was always both exciting and upsetting to me. I mean, I'm not small by any means but come on. While I was admiring his endowment he leaned over me and began to slid his dick against mine. It was slick and felt good in an unusual way, kind of like getting half of a hand job.
"You feel so good, Matvey. Outside and in." He sighed happily, slowly grinding our members together. He let his hands slide over my thighs and pushed my legs further apart before he pulled back and angled himself further down to poke teasingly at my hole.
"Ivan, please..." I implored, trying to push down against him and make it slip inside.
"But taunting you is so much fun!" He laughed, sliding the tip into me just to pull it back out after a moment. Every time it slipped inside of me I gasped. It hurt a bit but it was a good kind of pain.
"Come on, Ivan, plea-" He suddenly pushed into me, impaling me on a little more than half of his shaft in one sudden movement. I shrieked at an embarrassingly high pitch and squeezed my hands into fists. Sharp bolts of pleasure and pain rocketed up my spine as he slowly finished sinking into me. I laid there breathing heavily and just really feeling the size of it. The somewhat enjoyable burning sensation that came with being entered so fast eased as I adjusted. After a few seconds had passed he started to slowly thrust into me.
"See? I told you, you're amazing inside and out." Ivan hummed quietly as he leaned forward to give me a light kiss. He pulled my glasses off and set them on the end table. He smiled down at me a moment and then, without warning, slapped me. Not as hard as he could, but it still hurt.
"Dang, that hard already?" I asked, my eyes blinking open and my cheek stinging and sore. I tasted blood.
He clamped a pale hand over my mouth, silencing me effectively. "I hit you because I love you. Love is pain, you know this." His voice came out soft and gentle. He could be so cute sometimes.
Until he slapped me again, anyway. The same tender cheek as before. I yelped and winced after that, lifting my arms to cover my face. It had really hurt. He laughed a little and reached down to dig his fingernails (slightly longer than usual for a man) down my sides. He kept his hands very clean so I didn't worry too much about getting a weird infection. I would often tease him for his incredibly gay penchant of manicures so I trusted his hands were as germ free as possible.
His nails raked over my skin and left jagged lines in their wake. Beads of red rose up and it stung but when combined with the fantastic feeling in my ass it was a good kind of pain. I hissed and arched my back when they cut across my hips and his cock swept across my prostate for the first time. Ivan grabbed my wrists and pinned them over my head with his left hand then bent a bit in order to suck my nipple into his mouth. I gasped at the feeling and started to fuck myself back against him. It was hard with him holding my arms captive but all I could think about at that moment was how good it all felt. When he bit down my eyes flew wide and I sucked in a little hiss of air through my teeth.
At first it shot a jolt of pleasure straight down to my groin. My cock twitched and I wanted to touch myself so badly that it made me want to scream. Pre-cum beaded at the tip and slid down the length of my dick. After a moment the pleasure could no longer make up for the pain. I yelped and tried to pull my arms from his grasp but with no luck. The pain went from sharp to searing as I struggled against his hold, kicking my legs to try and wriggle away from the discomfort.
"Ivan, nngh, let go." I pleaded with him in quiet tones.
His sharp teeth eased their pressure and his tongue darted out to lap up the little well of blood that was building from my injured nipple. I let out a relieved sigh that the pain had eased. He was being very gentle with me which was nice, but probably only because he intended on knocking me out soon. His lips were spotted red with my blood so he swiped his tongue out to pull the drops into his mouth. Maybe it was just the cock in my ass messing with my perception of things but the action was pretty hot to look at.
He let out a soft moan as his thrusts picked up speed. I wrapped my legs around his waist and propped myself up a bit on my elbows in order to angle myself in such a way that I could push back against him, driving his dick deeper into me with every thrust.
My soft gasps and whimpers were all but drowned out by the sound of the bed creaking it's protest as he pushed into me harder. Finally Ivan released my wrists in favor of grasping my hips tightly, using the leverage to fuck me as hard as he could. I cried out in pleasure and slid my hand down to take hold of my cock. God, it had been too long. I had gotten laid the previous Monday, but it was nothing compared to this.
"I am going to choke you now." He warned me, slowing his thrusts. Before I had an opportunity to say anything, his hands were gone from my hips and wrapping around my neck. I would have been surprised at my lack of fear if it wasn't for the spike of feral adrenalin-based lust that shot through me. I managed to struggled one last breath in before the pressure grew so strong that I couldn't breathe no matter how hard I tried. I winced and tried to ask him to let up a bit - it hurt more than I had expected - but couldn't force anything more than a pathetic squeak.
He pushed into me slowly, grinding the head of his dick against my sweet spot. I probably would have been a rambling mess at that point but with his hand on my throat I couldn't find the breath to speak. He smiled down at me just as a shudder ran through my body, making my toes curl. I couldn't take it anymore. I was just about to cum when Ivan pulled one hand away from my neck (I was afforded about half a breath before his other hand changed it's grip) and tightly squeezed the base of my shaft. He all but stopped moving for a moment while he waited for my immanent orgasm to subside. Without the distraction I felt the pressure of trapped blood beginning to make my eyes ache and my lungs burn.
This was a horrible idea! Oh god I'm such an idiot I'm going to get brain damage or so- Ivan picked up his earlier pace, effectively knocking all thoughts from my mind. Oh goodness it felt so good even past the slowly growing headache. Almost every thrust was slamming against my prostate and it was actually a little too hard but god damn. As the burning in my lungs and pain in my head grew the pleasurable sensation seemed to be getting stronger. I looked at him, pleading for him to let me finish. I was so hard that it hurt and I would do anything, anything, for Ivan to let my dick go.
"Tell me you love me." He commanded, his voice slightly strained with exertion.
Without thinking about it I began mouthing the words over and over again. I love you I love you I love you please let me cum I love you so much just please!
He released me and a sound failed to escape my lips. My cock twitched and I was cuming, two hard shots of white landing on my stomach and chest. I would have been more shocked by the suddenness of it if I wasn't in mind-numbing ecstasy with rapidly encroaching tunnel vision. Bright specks started forming in the area of dark blotting out my peripheral vision so I weakly reached up to tap him on the arm twice.
He noticed it, I saw his eyes flicked over to where I had touched for just a second, but he ignored it. He... oh god he ignored it! He really intended on keeping this up until I blacked out! Although sluggish from post-orgasmic hormones and a dangerous lack of oxygen, I tried to pull his hands off and wriggle away. It was useless, there was no way I was going to get him to stop. I kicked and squirmed but my movements became weaker and weaker until I couldn't feel my lips and fingertips anymore. My arms fell away and it felt like I had some drool going on. My eyes turned toward the wet feeling on my cheek as if they could somehow take care of the situation on their own.
This would be an okay way to die.... I thought as I slipped into blackness.
* * * * * * *
"Ow-ow-ow-ow-ow-ow...." I curled up into a tight ball, clutching my pounding head and groaning in pain. It felt like the entire area at the top of my skull had split open. I tried opening my eyes and the light sent searing agony straight into my head. My palms pressed over my eyes as I rolled over onto my back and, waited for it to subside.
The bed dipped and I felt Ivan's fingers glide through my hair. "Are you alright?"
"How long was I out?"
"Only about... twenty minutes now." He replied, still stroking my hair.
"Am I having a stroke?"
He laughed, the sound light and airy. "No, the pain should pass any time now."
He was right, actually. The ache had receded enough to allow me to stop shielding my eyes. He leaned forward and placed a cool peck of a kiss on my forehead. I blinked up at the ceiling a few times, waiting for the pain to subside a bit more before I spoke. "That was horrible."
"You seemed to enjoy it." He offered me a bottle of water.
"Be quiet," I slowly sat up. I noticed that he had bothered to put one of his shirts on me and put some pajamas on himself while I was out. I accepted the drink and took a few sips.
"Get up, I have made a snack for us and I would like to watch a film with you."
"What movie?" I asked.
"Whichever you choose, Matvey." He kissed me on the temple then stood up. "I just want to sit with you."
I do not own Axis Powers: Hetalia, or the Audi R8. I make no money from the creation or distribution of this work. This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to the lives of any persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
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