Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/2494313.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Hetalia:_Axis_Powers
  Relationship:
      America_(Hetalia)/Russia_(Hetalia)
  Character:
      Russia_(Hetalia:_Axis_Powers), America_(Hetalia:_Axis_Powers)
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe
  Series:
      Part 2 of Shota_Shit, Part 6 of The_Gore_Collection
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-10-22 Completed: 2015-03-05 Chapters: 2/2 Words: 5812
****** ----------- ******
by Tamagoakura_(orphan_account)
Notes
     Content warning!
     This fic depicts the violent rape of a minor. I do not condone any
     forms of rape or CSA. This is a work of fiction and any resemblance
     to the lives of any persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
     I do not own Axis Powers: Hetalia and I make no money from the
     creation/distribution of this work.
  This work was inspired by
      I_Love_You,_Alfred_F._Jones! by Tamagoakura_(orphan_account)
***** Chapter 1 *****
The window slides open almost silently and a dark form slips inside. It stands
and is revealed to be a man dressed in a simple gray T-shirt and a pair of
jeans. His violet eyes scan the shadowy room and quickly find their target: the
dark splotch that is the bed on the other side of the room. He doesn't close
the window, but he does take a moment to lock the bedroom door before he
approaches the bed.
He's tall, almost towering over the bed in the darkness. His hair is pale
blond, nearly white, and his skin is just as light. His name is Ivan, and he
works at a cafe down the street from this house.
Soft breathing can be heard coming from beneath the blanketed mound. The man
pulls the corner of the covers aside to get a look at his mark - not that he
needs to double-check. He's certain that this house is the right one. He had
been watching it for nearly two months now. He smiles and lets his gloved
fingertips ghost through the boy's hair.
"Alfred." Ivan barely hears his own voice he says it so quietly.
Alfred is eleven and Ivan, twenty-six, is smitten. The boy comes to the cafe
sometimes with his father and brother after school and when Ivan had first seen
him he thought his heart had stopped. Alfred's hair shone in the sun that came
through the shop's large front windows, his eyes were a dazzling blue behind
wire frames, his smooth, youthful skin a sun kissed tan. At that moment Ivan
knew that he needed to have him. He had wanted to wait until the boy's body had
grown but his patience had already run dry.
Ivan pulls the blanket completely from the boy's body and drops it on the
floor. Alfred doesn't react but Ivan knows he's a heavy sleeper. Although he's
been in here a few times already, he never worked up the nerve to go any
further than this point. He stands there, silent and still, just looking,
admiring, coveting. How much time passes? Maybe a few minutes, perhaps half an
hour. Time loses meaning when pitted against the soft contours of Alfred's
face, the gentle curve of his lips, the golden fan of his eyelashes, the slope
of his neck. His little body hidden inside of an oversized Transformers T-
shirt.
Normally he would lose his nerve and leave by now, but this time Ivan gets over
his anxiety and slowly climbs onto the bed. Alfred stirs and he freezes on his
hands and knees over the  boy. Again he waits, completely motionless, until
he's sure Alfred will not wake. A little snore tells him that the boy's
completely out so he leans down, eyes closed, and nuzzles the crook of his
neck. He smells like cherry shampoo and the muted scent of a child's sweat. His
skin tastes salty, it's expected in the balmy nighttime air. He's always been
small, but now, under Ivan, he's tiny. Vulnerable. He's even more perfect than
he ever has been.
Ivan looks down, sees those smooth little legs, the way that the hem of the
shirt cuts his view off just before his underwear. Alfred's left knee is
scraped: he had taken quite the tumble off of his bike earlier that day. Ivan
had seen him fail to jump a fence with the slapdash ramp he had cobbled
together. Watched him cry. Saw him try to hide his reddened eyes from his
mother (he was a big boy now, after all) when he finally limped home and met
her in the driveway.
Ivan scoots lower until he's face-to-face with one of those silky thighs when
it occurs to him that he hasn't been breathing. He shakily exhales, the warm
air spreading over Alfred's flesh, and then presses his lips to the skin. He
breathes in through his nose and god Alfred smells so good. He places one kiss,
and then another, and another, moving up to the gentle heat radiating from the
boy's crotch. He pushes Alfred's legs apart and flicks his tongue against the
highest inner point of his thigh, kisses it, wants to bite but doesn't. He
doesn't want Alfred to awaken just yet and he can't leave any traceable marks.
The boy squirms a little but doesn't wake. Emboldened, Ivan sits up and hooks
his fingers in Alfred's underwear and pulls them down. The fabric slides down
to his thighs and yet he stays unaware. Ivan almost laughs but catches himself.
How could anyone sleep so deeply? He was practically asking for it! He presses
his lips together and forces back another little burst of laughter as he tugs
the underwear the rest of the way and tosses them on the floor.
Ivan contemplates removing the boy's shirt as well but decides against it. This
good fortune can only stretch so far. Instead he pushes the shirt up over
Alfred's chest so the majority of his lax body is in view. As much as he would
love to continue to admire the boy's form, Ivan is becoming pressed for time.
He pushes Alfred's legs apart and reaches to open his pants. He pulls his cock
out, he's been hard - almost painfully so - since he had climbed over the boy.
Against his better judgment he rubs the head against Alfred's soft boyhood. If
he tried, he could probably get off from just that. Ivan reaches into his
pocket and pulls out a gold foil square and rips it open with his teeth. As
much as he hates to take any sensation away from this experience, self
preservation has made a condom necessary. He rolls it on, lifts Alfred's hips
up to get a better angle, and pushes against his small hole.
Alfred grimaces at the pressure and makes a disapproving little noise. His eyes
open laboriously and for a second he looks up at Ivan, then down, and up again
in confusion. His eyes grow wide and he opens his mouth to scream but only a
tiny yelp escapes before Ivan clamps a hand over his lips. Alfred thrashes
around trying to scramble away without any luck. Ivan eases up on pushing,
beginning to wonder if it was possible to get inside, but tries again, this
time with more force. Alfred continues to fight in vain and makes little yelps
as his ass is gradually forced open and when the tip slips inside, he shrieks.
Ivan rests his forehead on the bed and squeezes his eyes shut. He forces
himself to take a few deep, shaky breaths because he had expected Alfred to be
tight but this is something else entirely. He needs to calm himself down, or he
is going to come right then and there and all of this effort would be wasted.
It is a shame Alfred isn't enjoying it. The boy struggles even harder, his
screams of pain muffled but clear from so close. His breathing is panicked and
short, occasionally hiccupping, but he's crying pretty hard now so that's not
surprising. Ivan presses a soft kiss to the boy's temple and sits up to get a
better view. Alfred's left hand is clamped onto Ivan's wrist, struggling to
yank his hand away so that he can scream for his parent's help. The other small
hand in gripping the sheets so hard that his  knuckles are white.
Ivan tries to push in farther but doesn't feel much give, so he tries to pull
out only to find the same outcome. For a second he worries he's stuck, but that
idea's gone as quickly as it's come. He's being silly, that isn't possible. All
he needs to do is force it a bit. He pulls back as far as seems possible, and
then drives back inside. Alfred shrieks louder, more frantically, and suddenly
his body gives way. A red gash rips itself from his anus and nearly a full inch
up his perineum and Ivan slides about half of himself inside without issue.
Alfred's whole body is tense, unmoving, his eyes wide and staring up toward the
ceiling. Tears are sliding down the sides of his face and leaving wet splotches
in his hair. From the sound of it, he's either hyperventilating or close to it.
Ivan thinks the deep red blood leaking out over Alfred's pale skin is
beautiful. His heaving chest is mesmerizing. Those perfect blue eyes glistening
with tears, pupils blown from fear and pain; Ivan could gaze into them for
hours. He slowly lifts his hand and Alfred makes no sound aside from shallow
breaths. His full pink lips... they beg for the kisses that Ivan gladly offers.
He presses his lips to Alfred's once, twice, slips out his tongue and runs it
over the smooth flesh. He slides one hand down and uses it to push Alfred's
hips upwards. His hand slips over the blood - there's so much blood - but he
manages to keep a good grip when he gently begins pumping in and out of the
boy.
Alfred starts to whimper again and Ivan eagerly laps up every little sound. The
height difference makes kissing him difficult but Ivan doesn't mind the
discomfort. Despite his fear of being bitten Ivan pushes his tongue into
Alfred's mouth; he wants to taste the boy, eat his yelps and screams. For a
moment he wonders if the police can use his saliva to find him. Maybe.
Probably. He doesn't care at this point, this muted sweet bubblegum toothpaste
flavor is more than worth jail time.
Alfred is so hot inside, so wet, so tight. Heavenly. Each time Ivan pulls out
it's like the boy's insides are gripping him, nearly being pulled out along
with his cock. Ivan wishes he could strip out of his clothes and hug Alfred to
his chest, enjoy every centimeter of skin-on-skin contact. Alfred's little
hands come up and push uselessly against him and the action is so cute that it
makes Ivan want to fuck him harder. He tries to keep his thrusts even and
gentle but the boy's hot little hole is so tight and every sound he makes
pushes Ivan to pick up speed. Soon, despite his better judgment, he's driving
desperately into Alfred's small body.
He's already so close, it's amazing. His senses are wholly surrounded in
Alfred's presence; sweet and salty on his tongue, flawless smooth skin, kids'
shampoo and copper blood, pathetic whimpers. Ivan breaks the kiss and whispers
to him, short, breathy words that fall together and fade off here and there.
"I love you," he's saying although he's sure Alfred cannot understand his
mother tongue. "I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you."
The building pressure of orgasmic pleasure is increasing rapidly at the base of
his cock. He pushes faster, just enough now to make the bed squeak quietly in
protest. Ivan covers Alfred's mouth with his hand again to quiet the boy's
growing cries and with a few more pushes he finally reaches climax, spilling
his seed into the condom with a small groan.
He all but falls boneless atop the boy. He's exhausted and wants nothing more
than to cuddle up next to Alfred and fall asleep but sadly that's impossible.
With a sigh Ivan pulls out. Alfred makes a soft noise but remains otherwise
motionless. Ivan figures that he's probably in shock.
He moves to sit at the side of the bed and slips the condom off. Careful not to
spill any of its contents, he drops it into the sandwich bag he had brought for
that purpose. It goes into his pocket for safe disposal later. There's a large
blood stain on the crotch of his pants that will be impossible to wash out and
it looks more than a little suspect. He will need to be sure to drive home as
safely as possible to avoid being pulled over - it probably wasn't possible to
explain the blotch of dark red away believably.
Beside him Alfred whimpers and starts crying again - a clear sign that it's
time for Ivan to leave. He leans over and places one more lingering kiss on the
boy's forehead. He wishes he hadn't forgotten to bring his phone so he could
get a picture. Instead he takes a moment to commit the sight of Alfred to
memory: Flushed tear-streaked cheeks, nearly naked little body broken and
bleeding. His cock stirs and he starts to think that he should have just snuck
in and stolen the boy instead.
It's too late now, Alfred is clearly in need of medical assistance. There would
be no way for Ivan to get him the treatment he needs.  Maybe he should have put
more thought into this before he came over. Oh well, Alfred's wounds would be
his parent's obligation to treat. Ivan takes the blanket from the floor to
cover Alfred up, unlocks the boy's door, then retreats to the other side of
room and slips out the window. The window falls shut, and he's gone.
***** Chapter 2 *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Alfred walks into a coffee shop on a Thursday at noon. The conditioned air
feels good after the stifling summer heat that he had been in for the past
fifteen minutes. It's a small shop, tucked away between a laundromat and a
computer repair place. The coffee shop is half full, with only one person in
line ahead of him. He waits patiently for the old woman to finish her order and
once she's gone to find a seat he steps up to the counter. The barista, a lanky
young teen with more than his fair share of acne, greets him pleasantly.
"I'll get an Americano and..." Alfred takes a second to look at the pastries
that are for sale. "Yeah, just the coffee."
"Can I get your name?"
"Alfred."
"Alfred?" A man's voice comes from the left. The blond turns and sees another
shop employee sitting at a booth. He appears to be on break, with a cup of
black coffee, a sandwich, and a book set out on the table in front of him. The
man gives him a once-over, looking like he doesn't believe his own eyes.
"Alfred Jones?"
"Um... yeah. Yeah, that's me."
The man - his nametag reads MANAGER and under that, IVAN - stares at Alfred
wordlessly. His expression is one of surprise, borderline shock even. Alfred
clears his throat awkwardly and averts his eyes.
"Please, Alfred, sit with me a moment." Ivan offers, motioning to the open spot
across the table from himself.
"Oh, uh, yeah sure." Alfred chuckles, a little embarrassed. He takes a moment
to pay the barista and then slides into the booth.
Ivan closes his book and smiles warmly. "I have not seen you in years. Where
have you been?"
"Some stuff happened so my parents moved us to Virginia. I came back to go to
the community college here, actually. Sorry, but I don't exactly remember where
I know you from..."
Ivan's smile broadens, causing fine lines to appear at the corners of his eyes.
"I knew you when you were just a boy. You've grown so much since then."
Alfred returns the smile. Although he doesn't remember the man, Ivan's gladness
to see him puts him at ease. It isn't often one meets an old acquaintance
(teacher? Baby sitter?) out of the blue, and one that not only remembers you
after so many years, but is genuinely excited to see you. The barista sets
Alfred's drink on the table and the blond flashes him a big smile.
"Thanks!" Alfred turns his attention back to Ivan. "So how did you say you knew
me? Friend of my parents or something?"
"I used to work near your school and your family would come into the shop quite
often."
Alfred nods. His dad wasn't the most chatty, but his mother often struck up
conversations with service people. His mother was a chronic flirt, and this guy
is handsome so he can't put it past her. Alfred has a bit of a complex for
older men so he's not exactly upset about being noticed by him.
"Tell me how you have been spending your time."
"Just normal stuff, I guess. I took a year off to relax after I graduated high
school and didn't really do much."
"That is fascinating. And where did you say you are staying now?"
"I've got an apartment near the school."
Ivan rests his chin on the palm of his hand and leans forward a bit. "That
cannot be far."
"It's nice how close it is to the school, and there's a burger place two blocks
down. The police station is right across the street though." He takes a drink
of his coffee. "Looks like I won't be throwing any parties."
"I see..." Ivan's smile weakens a little then perks back up. He asks Alfred
about his classes and career intentions, hobbies, interests, favorites. Soon
fifteen minutes slip by.
"Shit dude, I didn't notice how long it's been." The teen says and slides out
of the booth. "I ought to let you get back to work."
"I apologize if this is sudden, but would you like to go out for drinks later?"
Ivan asks.
Alfred laughs. "I'd love to, but I'm only nineteen."
"We can go to my house." Ivan offers.
"I probably could... when?"
"Tonight."
"Isn't that kind of short notice?"
"No!" Ivan insists, almost too adamant. "No, I'm busy for the rest of the week,
so..."
Alfred considers it for a moment then finally nods. Free booze is better than
no booze! Besides, he's going to need friends in the area and it would be cool
to hang out with some older people. "Sure, why not."
 
===============================================================================
 
Alfred is more than happy to allow Ivan's tongue into his mouth. He's sprawled
on his back on the couch with Ivan over him, the man pressing sloppy, almost
desperate kisses across his mouth, jaw, and neck. They're still both fully
clothed but Ivan's hands wander all across Alfred's body. Touching, caressing,
pawing and needy. The older man pushes Alfred's legs further apart and grinds
their crotches together, a tiny groan pouring into the teen's open mouth.
Alfred's drunk, far more drunk than the four beers he had warrants. Somewhere
inside of himself he wonders what's going on, because he's drank before and
never gotten this messed up from only a few bottles. He should be more
concerned and he knows it but his decision-making skills are nearly nonexistent
at this point so he just thrusts back against the man.
"Hang on a second..." He pants out between kisses, pushing Ivan back. It's so
hot that he feels faint. Alfred looks up at the man over him... His hands
against his chest...
He panics and shoves Ivan back as hard as he can, almost knocking him to the
floor. Alfred's mouth is dry and his heart is hammering in his chest. He's so
terrified that he can barely speak and he has no idea why. He scrambles back to
sitting, breathing rapid, and after a couple tries manages to force his voice
out.
"I- I gotta g-go to the bathroom!" With that he jumps up from the couch and
hurries down the hall. He wants to run but he forces himself to move slowly
enough down the hall not to seem too panicked. He tries a closet before he
finds the washroom and throws himself inside. Alfred stands there a moment with
his back up against the wood, his breathing ragged, before he locks the door
and stumbles over to the sink. He turns it on and splashes some cool water in
his face.
Alfred frowns at himself in the mirror. Was this really happening again? Why
now? It had been over a year since he had finally worked through enough therapy
to allow him to be held so closely. He had come this close to losing his
virginity two months ago and the only thing that stopped that from happening
had been realizing he was late to pick his little brother up from school. He
had been in a much more compromising position than he was a moment ago without
freaking out so why?
Alfred splashes his face a few more times then catches some water in his cupped
hand and sips it. He stands there a moment trying to compose himself but it's
hard, harder than usual. He goes through his breathing exercises as best he can
past the drunken haze that's muddying his thinking.
A knock at the door startles him. "Y-yeah?"
"Alfred, are you alright?" Ivan asks hesitantly.
"Sorry I'm... I'm not feeling well." The teen replies, squeezing his eyes shut.
Alfred forces back a quiet sob. Great, now this guy knows I'm a complete head
case.
"Did you have too much to drink?" The door handle jiggles for a second and
stops.
"Probably... I don't know... Just- Just give me a second okay?" Alfred splashes
his face one more time then shuts the water off and wipes his face on a hand
towel. He takes a deep breath and finally unlocks the door.
Ivan appears worried, edging on distressed. "Do you need to lay down?"
Alfred considers it a moment then shakes his head. "No, I think I should just
go home. Could you drive me?"
Ivan presses his lips together and for a moment Alfred wonders if he's made him
mad, but the expression is replaced by a smile as quickly as it came. "I think
you should lie down for a while."
"I really don't-"
"Come, you can use the bed." Ivan insists, ushering Alfred out of the bathroom
and down the hall. Despite his protests Alfred finds himself being urged,
nearly pushed, the short distance to Ivan's bedroom. Alfred just wants to go
home and fall asleep but he can't seem to collect his thoughts. Soon he's in
Ivan's room being ushered toward the bed.
"Wait- wait a minute..." Alfred says, planting his feet firmly on the floor to
stop himself being pushed. He sways where he stands and rubs his forehead with
the heel of his hand. "I shouldn't... I shouldn't be this drunk, man."
He hears the door shut and looks at Ivan in confusion. The man's expression is
strange, a kind of half-smile that doesn't reach his eyes. His gaze burrows
into Alfred, threatening in it's intensity.
"Hey-"
"I won't let anyone take you away from me this time, Alfred." Ivan says. His
voice shakes a little and at first Alfred thinks the man is going to laugh but
nothing comes of it.
"What?"
"I missed you so much..." Ivan's voice is almost a whisper. "Every day... I
thought about you every day. I wanted to die without you, Alfred."
"Excuse me?" Alfred asks, confused. He tries to take a step back but his leg
bumps into the side of the bed and knocks him off balance. He falls back and
lands sitting on the mattress. A shiver of fear runs up Alfred's spine when
Ivan comes closer. The man clenches and relaxes his hands a few times, and
before Alfred can react he's been pushed onto his back.
Ivan drops over him, pins him down, and kisses him so forcefully it hurts.
Alfred scrambles back but can't get out from under the man. "What the fuck is
your problem!"
"I know you remember me, Alfred." Ivan murmurs between the kisses he's dotting
across the teen's jaw. "You don't need to pretend. I know you remember the time
we had together. How close we were. How perfect we were together."
Ivan's tongue slides over Alfred's neck. "I didn't mean to hurt you. It was an
accident, I would never try to hurt you."
Alfred thrashes and struggles uselessly before he's forced to stop lest he
makes himself any dizzier. "I don't know what you're talking about!"
"Yes you do!" Ivan insists, voice tinged with sharp anger. Despite the teen's
protests he forces his left hand into Alfred's pants but he can't reach far.
Alfred's vision is spinning and he feels nauseous so he's all but helpless,
unable to stop the man from undoing his pants and tugging his jeans partway
down his hips. Ivan reaches into Alfred's underwear and locates the spot
between his ass and balls. He presses a finger against the raised scar tissue
and smiles. "Right here... You opened up for me so beautifully."
The color drains from Alfred's face. For a second he feels numb, unbelieving
that the dark figure that haunted his dreams even to this day could possibly be
real. On an intellectual level he knows that the man who attacked him all those
years ago exists, but over time he had become more of a phantom. A towering
beast, the physical embodiment of pain and fear. That black silhouette that
sent Alfred screaming himself awake every night for years, terrified of the
dark, in and out of the hospital, needing a handful of pills just to get
through the day.
Alfred nearly laughs. It was almost disappointing to have that thingrevealed to
just be another flesh and blood human being. Some guy who hangs out reading and
sipping coffee, a guy who pays his taxes, washes his dishes, juggles bills,
just a guy who carries on through life as if he were normal.
That sick sense of mirth evaporates when Ivan's finger slides down the short
scar and presses gently against his hole. He wants to run but he's positive now
that the man slipped something in his drink. Ivan pulls Alfred's pants off
completely and tosses them on the floor. There's time now, and privacy, so Ivan
works Alfred's T-shirt off as well and throws it away.
"You're perfect." Ivan whispers, gaze working up and down Alfred's bare body.
"You've always been perfect."
"I think I'm gonna throw up." Is all the teen can will himself to say when his
stomach lurches. Whether the nausea is from the drugs, booze, or fear he's not
sure.
Ivan looks at him apologetically but doesn't get off. "I'm sorry. I've never
used those pills before, I only bought them today. I may have given you too
much."
Alfred gags and swallows thickly. "I wanna go home."
"I can't lose you again, Alfred." Ivan states.
"Please man, I just wanna go home." Alfred blubbers, tears breaking and sliding
down his cheeks. Ivan sits up and for a moment and Alfred thinks he may have
changed his mind, but that hope is immediately dashed when Ivan pulls his shirt
up over his head and chucks it onto the growing pile of clothes on the floor.
Ivan drops back down over Alfred and latches his mouth on the teen's neck,
sucking and licking and nipping. It almost feels nice somewhere past the
dizziness and churning stomach. Alfred squeezes his eyes shut and wills himself
not to puke - the last thing he needs right now is to vomit all over himself.
The man moves down his chest, nibbles gently on a nipple, circles it with his
tongue then sucks the bud between his lips. Alfred forces a little groan to die
in his throat. Kisses move down, over Alfred's belly - it's concave, the blond
has had trouble eating since their first encounter - a little puff of breath
spreads out over the skin. Warm tongue circles his belly button, slides down
wet and smooth. Ivan stops just above the start of Alfred's pubic hair, presses
a kiss on the last patch of smooth skin.
Another sob wrings itself from Alfred's throat when the man's mouth closes over
his soft penis. He presses one hand over his eyes and clenches his jaw, willing
himself not to cry. It's a useless gesture. Salty tears slide free and his
breathing is dotted with various little hiccups and sniffles. His distress
doesn't dissuade the older man at all. Ivan just continues on, sucking and
licking Alfred's manhood in an increasingly successful attempt to get him hard.
Soon Alfred's as hard as he's going to get with the drugs in his system so Ivan
releases him with a loud slurp. Alfred hears the gentle clink of the man's belt
and a long whine escapes his lips. He can't will himself to look - it's bad
enough that he can't make himself move, he doesn't want to add to the situation
by actually seeing. He feels the man wiggle, hears the shimmy of his pants
coming off followed by the muffled sound of the fabric landing amongst their
other clothes. There's a shift of weight followed by the dull sound of a drawer
opening.
Alfred tries to calm down, focuses on his breathing. In through the nose, out
through the mouth. In, out, in, out, in, out.
The pop of a bottle being opened.
In, out, in, out, in, out.
The man's hands on Alfred's thighs, pushes them apart. Ivan's quickened
breathing is quiet but perfectly audible. The bed dips a little as he gets into
position.
In, out, in, out, in, out.
Fingers, slick and warm, rub against his hole. Massage, circle, a little
pressure and when one slips inside Alfred screams. It doesn't hurt but the
sensation is all too familiar, even after all this time. He expects it to hurt,
to burn, to rip and tear and pull his insides out. He panics, screams again,
hollers as loudly as he can but only a few words escape before there's a hand
clamped over his mouth. He tries to scramble away but can't move his sluggish
body far. A wave of nausea hits him so strongly that he actually vomits a small
amount. Ivan's hand is still over his mouth so he's forced to swallow it back
down, gag, gulp again to stop himself from puking any more.
Alfred falls quiet, his chest heaving as he starts hyperventilating. Tries to
stop, tries to calm down but he can't. Ivan presses a kiss to his forehead and
hushes him softly, like one would a small child. "Don't do that, Alfred. I love
you. I won't hurt you."
Alfred wrenches his head to the left to try and move away from the man's gentle
kisses and sickly sweet words. He wishes it wasn't real. He wishes it was just
another flash back, just another panic attack, something that he could come
around from safe at home. Ivan's finger is still inside of him but the man
doesn't move it. He just keeps dotting little kisses along Alfred's forehead,
over his cheeks, pecks a loving one onto the tip of his nose. He coos
encouraging little words, promises pleasure, declares his undying love again
and again until Alfred's breathing finally slows down.
"There, that's better..." Ivan murmures into Alfred's hair. "You need to relax
for this, I don't want to hurt you."
The man finally moves his finger again and this time Alfred only flinches
slightly. He soon adds another, still working gently but clearly impatient.
Alfred looks at the ceiling and tries to think of something else, anything else
to distract himself from the strange feeling. His dick is totally flaccid
again, the previous panic having sucked any semblance of pleasure out of the
touches. Finally Ivan removes his fingers and after warning Alfred not to
scream, takes his hand from the younger man's mouth.
Ivan repositions himself a little and aims, nudges his cock against Alfred's
ass, then pushes inside. It's slow going, only a few centimeters and then he
stops to allow the teen some time to relax. A little more. Stops. More. Stops.
Pulls out a little and then pushes back in. Alfred yelps and grunts every now
and then through quiet snivels. Ivan is about halfway in when he pauses and
takes a moment to touch Alfred's limp dick. He gently strokes it, ghosts his
fingers along the length, runs his fingertip around the head. Alfred covers his
mouth with the back of his hand to try and hide a soft moan, but the way his
cock jumps in Ivan's hand betrays him.
"See, I knew you would like this."
"Fuck you." Alfred attempts to sound harsh but his voice cracks.
Ivan shushes him calmly, then leans down and presses a chaste kiss to the his
lips. Alfred doesn't pull away so Ivan tries again, and this time he takes the
teen's lack of response as willingness.
He's too emotionally and physically exhausted to bother fighting anymore. The
tears keep coming but Alfred feels so numb that it barely registers when Ivan
slides his tongue into his mouth. The older man shudders, dips his tongue
further inside, runs it along Alfred's teeth and across his tongue. He starts
thrusting again, slow, deliberate pushes meant to open Alfred up. His breathing
is a little harder now, more excited, and soon his movements follow suit. He
pushes in harder, picks up speed. One hand works the teen's dick and the other
moves up to cup his face. Gentle fingers trail over Alfred's cheek, jaw, travel
up to push through his hair.
Alfred winces, Ivan's increasing speed beginning to hurt. The deeper he goes,
the more pain flares up. The man's touches manage to keep him half hard but
he's not enjoying it. Ivan pushes harder, squeezes Alfred's cock too firmly,
quickly becoming wrapped up in his own experience. His pushes are more harsh,
moans Alfred's name into the teen's mouth, finally breaks the kiss and buries
his face in the crook of his neck to suck angry red marks onto the skin.
Alfred squeezes his eyes closed, tries to shut everything out. The pain inside
rapidly increasing, the bitter taste of vomit left over on his tongue, Ivan's
shaky breaths and grunts in his ear. Incessant whispers of "I love you" over
and over again like a mantra. Ivan promises how happy they will be together and
Alfred's stomach turns.
Ivan releases the younger man's cock and instead wraps his arms around him,
squeezes him in a tight hug. He presses their bodies flush together and pushes
in more erratically, then thrusts in one last time, so hard and deep that the
pain makes Alfred cry out. Ivan tenses up and stays where he in a moment before
all but laying down atop the other man. He presses a few kisses against
Alfred's cheek and temple then nuzzles his hair.
Alfred swallows thickly. After a while of laying there quietly as Ivan peppers
little kisses over his face, he forces himself to speak. His voice comes out as
little more than a strained croak. "Can I go home now?"
Ivan chuckles and finally pulls out. The sensation of his come spilling out
almost makes Alfred cry all over again. He pushes a few loose strands of sweat-
dampened hair from the teen's face. "You are home."
Chapter End Notes
     And there it is, the second part that was never meant to exist.
     People wanted it and gosh darn it I kinda did too so I wrote it. It's
     not very in-depth but that's because this is an AU of another fic I'm
     working on, so if you want more on Al's home life and stuff you'll
     get that whenever that fic gets released.
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