Le Raison J'adore France Nii San
Title:Scarf
Author: Me <<< even though I don't want to claim it
Characters/Pairing: Russia x China
Warning: Smut
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Written for kink meme. The prompt was that the real reason Ivan where's a scarf isn't because of emotional attachment but because an overzealous lover.
A/N: This is why I don't write at 7am in the morning. Oh gawd so tired and this was so bad. I forsake writing kink-memes forever!
Minutes before the World Meeting would commence, China and Russia entered the empty room before anyone else. The plush carpet beneath their feet swallowed the sound of their foot steps as they settled into their seat side by side with neither a word nor glance. Quiet, stillness filled the room as if no one had entered at all; only the occasional rustling of paper, of fabric made by the raven haired nation did people know it was occupied. Perhaps it was the morning air or it could have been the early sun spilling through the windows, casting its’ warm, comforting rays upon his back that made Russia sluggish. Russia didn’t know and didn’t care; he closed his eyes and laid his forehead upon the cool, oak table. He hated the cold- despised it even- but the oak felt nice on his warm skin.
Next to him, the rustling of paper stopped. Curious, he glanced back towards China and caught him staring at him. A smiled tugged at the corner of Russia’s lips as the smaller nation quickly looked away, blushing. Despite the other nation pointedly avoiding his gaze, violet eyes intently followed his every movement, every feature.
Sunlight played on China’s skin, making it appear even whiter and translucent. Many, many times it reminded Russia of fresh, powdery snow softly drifting down to earth. Many, many times he was reminded just how wrong he was.
China clutched the head board on either side of Russia’s shoulder, trembling as he sat atop of the larger nation’s lap, rocking his body against the other. Harder and harder he rode him; the bed creaking beneath them with the increased pace. Each time he plunged Russia deeper and deeper, a breathless gasp escaped his lips. No words were spoken. No words were needed. His hands since released the iron grip it had on the wooden decoration and instead found solace in desperately clinging onto to the Russian. The way one hand buried itself into Russia’s hair while the other wrapped tightly around his shoulder, spoke louder than any words. The breathless moans whispered into his ears could only mean one thing,
“Ivan…Ivan…Ivan....”
Surging forward, China’s cry was cut short as Russia cupped the back of his neck and caught his lips in a bruising kiss. While the silver haired nation wanted to capture every sigh of pleasure he made China cry out, the other wanted, needed to express the mindless insanity he felt. He raked his sharp nails down Russia’s back, careless of the red welts they were certain to leave behind. Russia hissed into the kiss when he felt blood be drawn, but it was a small price to pay. Now, right now in the sex-scented room, they both only had one desire, one goal… to own and conquer.
“Would you stop staring?” China mumbled still unable to meet Russia’s eyes, “It’s rude.”
Smiling, he reached a hand out to trace the Chinese nation’s collar. His finger not even touching bare skin, he could already feel the heat radiate off the other and seep into him. No. Not like snow. Never like snow.
“I was just the lovely marks around you’re neck, Yao,” Russia smirked, “The marks I made sure to leave where everyone could see.”
China shot Russia a glare. He opened his mouth to give the younger nation a scathing retort when his old ears caught the sound of the other nations. Rather than spend time scolding Russia, who he knows will do whatever he pleases, China quickly tried to brush his hair to the side in an attempt to cover the red bruises dotting his neck.
Shaking his head, Russia chuckled, “Useless. I still see it on the other side.”
“You sonofa-” China grabbed onto to the laughing Russian’s lapel when suddenly the door burst open with the other nations filing in.
Acting on pure instinct to preserve his pride, China jerked Russia’s scarf from his neck and securely wrapped it around himself. His relationship with Russia was known to the world, but- wrapping it tighter- he rather keep their bedroom matter a secret from prying eyes….
From the corner of his eye, he saw France approach them with a silly grin on his face. Dread was already filling China’s body; France grinning was never a good thing.
“Bonjour mes amis!” France slapped China’s back, “I gather you had a rough night last night?” He waggled his eyebrow suggestively, making it hard to mistake his meaning.
China couldn’t help but flush, “W-what do you mean? Of course not!”
Elbowing the older nation in the rib, he said teasingly, “Ohohoho of course you didn’t, old friend. I was talking about poor Russia here.”
At the mention of Russia, China whipped his head around to look at his lover sitting, smiling at him and felt the color drain from his face. Russia’s neck wasn’t riddled with kiss marks like his own, but rather with bite marks he made while lost in a passionate frenzy.
He barely felt the congratulating French thump his back again, “You may be old but it doesn’t mean you can kick the tiger while he’s down eh? I never knew you were so possessive! Clearly you wanted us to see just who Ivan belonged to. You didn’t even let him wear his scarf. Mon Dieu, you have got to let me join in the wild festivities next time! I’ll even let you tie me up if I can look as satisfied as Russia.”
A/N: I love France because somehow he always ends up saving a fic meant to die and painful, painful death.