Updated: March 7th, 2013

Pairings: Russia/China (Rochu; Ivan Braginski/Yao Wang)

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, the credit is due to the wonderful Hidekaz Himaruya for giving us such amazing characters (:

AN: This is a rated M fic for a reason we all know and what will happen later, so if that is something that you wish not to read, this fic is not for you. I fixed a few mistakes (finally!), and this pairing means a lot to me and as does this story. I'm still very happy to see how much love it's gotten.

Taking a long taste of his drink, Yao Wang's eyes once again found themselves falling onto the man from across the bar. His golden robs rested on the face, analyzing the figure who boldly met his gaze, refusing to hide the fact that he had been staring before the Chinese man's eyes laid on him. The piercing blue irises- from this far, Yao would have thought they be a deep violet- met his, one blond eyebrow raising in mild surprise, a small smile on his lips.

"Yo, Yao, are you listening to me?" complained the American in his ear, bringing him back to the reality he was in. Alfred frowned, eyes darting to stare at the object his dark haired friend's attention was enthralled with, Ivan Braginski; after a moment, Yao's own slowly and reluctantly turned back to the blond with a glare.

"No, I wasn't," he snapped back, frowning. The disturbance on his porcelain face was mostly due to the fact in his annoyance at Alfred having actually caught him looking at the Russian, but not helped at the American's obvious frustration in the act. What did he care, for that matter? "How many times do I have to tell you that I don't care about aliens?"

"Okay, one, they so are real," he huffed, taking a swig of his beer to moisten his throat before continuing, "And two, what the hell are you doing staring at that freak?"

"As much as I dislike feeding his ego, he has a point," Arthur interjected, turning around from his conversation with Francis and Matthew to aid Alfred.

"See, even Art agrees with me," Alfred snorted cockily, slinging an arm across his lover in triumph. Growling, Arthur threw it off and turned his attention back to Yao. "He's been bothering you for how long again? Don't encourage him, dude, just think about all the times he-"

"I'm not staring!" Yao shot back too quickly, feeling his face heat up in the blunt lie. Even as he spoke, he wanted to turn and gaze into those hypnotizing eyes once again and that thought infuriated him. "I don't want to hear about it anymore, alright? Aiyah, let me drink in peace. Arthur, try and control Francis?" He nodded his head, indicating with a aggrivated wave of his hand how the Frenchman had taken the opportunity of a distracted Arthur to begin nibbling on his Canadian boyfriends neck. Letting out a loud swear, Arthur busied himself in pulling Francis off by yanking on his hair. Brightening up at the new form of entertainment, Alfred turned around and laughed at the spectacle, trying to ruffle the feathers by encouraging both men.

With a roll of his eyes Yao leaned against the bar, motioning the bartender with a flick of his index finger. He should listen to the advice of Alfred and his friends, jaw tensing as he felt the eyes of Ivan on his skin. It'd been five weeks this Friday that the mysterious Russian had shown up at their local bar and changed Yao's routine. Immediately that night Ivan's violet eyes had zeroed in on the Chinese man, persisting him with a drink or chat, that unwavering smile on his face. Having long been used to men hitting on him, Yao politely declined the first time and returned to drinking with his friends. Usually the other men would leave, not wasting a word on him again. But Yao soon realized this Russian was unlike other men.

After the first time, he began popping up in Yao's daily life- at the grocery store, the gym, the theatre, outside of work. The raven haired man had hoped it was only a coincidence, greeting him as "the man from the bar" before continuing with his day, Ivan leaving his mind. However, his real attention was always full force at the bar, every Friday night; he would come over constantly, trying to strike up a conversation and insisting on that drink.

By the third week, Yao had had enough. He would do everything possible to turn off the Russian; push, snap, shoulder down the street, and even the occasional drink thrown. But Ivan would always have the same reaction- he would laugh or his smile would grow wider, wishing Yao a good night before retreating back to his one man table. In the beginning, his friends had joked about Yao's "bar romance"- none more the Francis, hinting at activates the large man was "sure to be rather good at, mon cher"- but as Yao grew more and more irritated, they did their best to shield him. Even shy Matthew, often interjecting Ivan's advances by taking Yao to the bathroom and sneaking off to the other side of the bar.

But recently, and Yao's hand clenched tighter around his drink at the thought, he found he couldn't stop thinking about the Russian. Ivan, as he first introduced himself, bluntly stating how he could not take his eyes off Yao from the moment he walked into the bar and making Yao's eyebrow tick in annoyance. Ivan, the mysterious foreigner who happened to show up that random Friday night, taking an intense interest in Yao. Ivan, who in the past couple days had taken home in Yao's thoughts. He had believed Ivan was simply infatuated with him at the start, insisting that this obsession would die before long. But when it did not die, and Ivan kept showing up, Yao found himself intrigued. He found himself growing fond of his presence, looking him out in the crowd and giving him a smile when their eyes met. And the seed was planted, slowly growing with each passing hour.

He scoffed, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. Ivan meant nothing and would never mean anything. However, turning to gaze at the two couples he was with, a gnawing loneliness clawed at his chest. Yes, men went up to him often, asking if he'd share a drink and go somewhere quieter, but Yao did not want that. He wanted what he was staring at, what his best friends had; love. Not a one night stand, not a easy fuck. He wanted someone to care about him in the way Alfred smiled at Arthur, or how Arthur looked at Alfred when he thought he wasn't looking. Or how Francis spoiled Matthew with whispered words and teasing kisses, or how Matthew grabbed the Frenchman's hand under the table with a blush.

Unable to help himself any longer, Yao turned and sought out Ivan on the other side of the bar. There he was, staring back at him, eyes glistening like he was expecting this action to occur. Without thinking, Yao found himself crossing the bar, weaving his way through the crowd like a moth, drawn to Ivan's light. The way Ivan was staring at him, had been staring at him these past five weeks, was what Yao wanted.

"Privet, my sunflower," Ivan greeted, voice thickly accented as he tilted his head, intrigued when Yao stood before him, "Have you come for that drink?"

Snorting, Yao sat down opposite the Russian and took a quick, nervous sip of his drink. "Don't get too excited, I'm just here to tell you-"

"You cannot keep your eyes off me," he interrupted, smile twitching higher at the blush illicit from Yao at the comment. Ivan quickly held up a large paw, chuckling as Yao opened his mouth in protest. "Calm, little sunflower. Do not be ashamed; now you know how I've felt since I first saw you."

"Shut up," he grumbled, but his own lips twitched into a smirk. Whatever the Russian had planned, Yao found himself instantly drawn in by his words. "I bet you say this to everyone you stalk."

Unfazed by the comment, Ivan only shook his head. "Net. If you must know, this is a new feeling more me." When Yao raised an eyebrow in confusion, Ivan blinked. "Being in love."

Setting his drink down, Yao let out a disbelieving laugh, though a light blush was forming on his white cheeks. "Please, Ivan, you don't love me."

"But I do, little Yao. You think I say this to everyone I meet, but I do not. Russia has made my heart cold, unfeeling. But you, you bring the heat back when I look at you."

"And you think that's love?" Yao shot back, but his words were hesitant as he listened to Ivan speak. "That could be many different things, Ivan. You shouldn't tell strangers who you know nothing about you love them."

At this the Russian chuckled, eyes darkening as he raised his hands and spread them to his side. "But that's the best thing, little sunflower! I know everything about you!"

For a moment Yao simply stared at Ivan, golden eyes wide. Resting his hands back on the table, Ivan smiled at him, waiting for him to speak.

"Know everything about me?" Yao echoed. Ivan nodded, smile still present. "Da, I do."

"You follow me around, tell me you love me, and say you know everything about me when we've barely spoken?" Shaking his head, Yao took a drink and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "I don't know if that works in Russia, but that doesn't set right with most people here in America."

"But it set's right with you, Yao."

Surprised by his words Yao blinked, finding himself leaning forward across the table. His gold gaze stared intently at Ivan, interested in his words. "Excuse me?"

"You are unlike any man I have ever met. I can see in your eyes that you are flattered, despite what you say." With a gloved hand, Ivan grasped his glass and slowly spun it around, making the clear liquid inside shudder and move with the motion. He took a drink, downing the vodka without a flinch. "I mean you no harm, Yao. I am not looking for something easy and I am not toying with you. I wish to get to know you more."

"I thought you said you knew everything about me?" Yao said, finding himself drawn in to Ivan's words, now realizing how close their faces were to each other. He forgot he was in a bar, filled with his friends and strange faces. All he could focus on was Ivan's face, those violet eyes gazing into his.

"I do," he chuckled, moving his free hand across the table to brush Yao's cheek. The movement caused Yao to sigh softly, unable to look away from the Russian. "But knowing everything is different then learning, da? I want you to tell me everything, sunflower."

There was silence between them as they gazed at one another, soft breaths milling together in the space and mixing in the air. Yao's eyes searched Ivan's face, his thinking visible on his face.

"I think I should tell my friends I'll be busy for the rest of the night," Yao whispered, daring to give the Russian a smile.

Ivan's small smile grew at the words.

"I-Ivan," Yao panted, letting his head rest against the wood of the wall, tilting his head back to take a deep gulp of air. As soon as the two left the bar, Yao promising Alfred and his friends that he knew what he was doing, there was little talking between the two. Immediately after entering Ivan's house, which was only a block away from the bad, they attacked each other. Now Yao found himself pinned against the wall, panting Ivan's name as he growled in response, tearing open his shirt and letting it drop to the floor. The Russian took a moment to gaze down at the Chinese mans effeminate chest, running a hand over it in admiration. He quickly remembered his work when Yao whined, taking a rough hold onto Ivan's face and pulling him back down into a heated kiss.

Letting his hands run down Yao's sides as he worked on sliding off his own shirt, Ivan took a grip on his hips and pulled him up. Automatically Yao wrapped his slender legs around his waist, refusing to take his lips off the other. Shrugging off his shirt, Ivan licked at Yao's lower lip as he continued to his bedroom, strong arms wrapping around his lithe form. Opening in invitation, Ivan slipped his tongue past those oh so soft lips and licked at his teeth, working past to rub against Yao's own muscle. As their tongues danced together; rubbing and thrusting together, foreshadowing the actions to come, Ivan shoved Yao against his bedroom door to take a moment.

"Ah… Open this damn door already," Yao purred, releasing his lips to take a deep breath, panting heavily as he began kissing Ivan's check. Only a chuckle was his response, fumbling with the door handle before he finally turned it open. Holding Yao close with one arm, Ivan walked them to the bed before falling onto it, making sure to prop himself up on one arm in order to protect the raven haired man.

"You are indescribable," Ivan breathed against his ear, hand returning in running across Yao's chest. He smirked when he heard soft moans in return, louder ones when Yao's nipples were teased. As much as he wanted to learn every spot that sent the smaller man calling, Ivan wanted him. Needed him. Now. He would have years to learn everything about Yao, but in the moment he knew what he wanted. And from the sounds coming from Yao, he knew he needed it to.

In his thoughts, Yao had begun work on unblocking Ivan's belt, sliding it off when he had it out of the way. "I sware I don't ever do this," he mumbled, leaning forward to lap at Ivan's chest. The man about him smiled, running a hand through his hair, taking out the ribbon in the process to let the ink locks spill out.

"As long as I'm the only one, Yao," he chuckled, skillfully removing Yao's pants and boxers. Ivan kicked his own off when Yao slid them down, letting them land where gravity took them.

As they lay together, bare to their eyes, the two men took a moment to gaze at one another. Their deep pants filled the room as their eyes searched each other before finally locking- violet and gold.

Ivan slid his hand down the silk sheets slowly, never breaking his gaze from Yao as they moved over his hip. With a soft moan and a sharp intake of breath from the man below him, Ivan wrapped his digits around his member and pumped his cock roughly; up and down, up and down. Arching his back off the bed to make a gentle arch, Yao cried out, rocking his hips with the movements. "Ivan- Ah!"

"That feels good, da?" His voice was low with lust as he questioned, keeping his pace uneven to leave Yao on the brink, unknowing to what movement was coming next. All he got in return was a quick nod, head tossing back and forth. "I want to hear your answer, Yao."

"Yes," he moaned, finally, tangling his fingers in Ivan's hair as his fingers moved. Satisfied with their slickness, he removed his hand from Yao's cock which caused the other to whimper in protest. The whimper quickly died, instead replaced with a shuddering gasp as one of Ivan's fingers broke past his tight ring of muscles, slowly pumping in and out. As Ivan stretched and prepared Yao, the Chinese man hid his eyes behind long lashes, biting his lower lip in a instinct to quiet himself.

"Do not feel the need to hide, Yao; I want all of you, everything there is to offer," Ivan purred down to him, accented voice low and reassuring. After a few moments Yao still kept quiet, only the sound of his muffled moans refusing to slip past his lips. Only when Ivan added a second finger, curling against the tight walls and scissoring as they clenched around them, did Yao let out his moans.

"Hurry up… please…" he whispered softly, adding the plea at the end, turning his head to the side, his embarrassment at his need clear with his flushed cheeks. Ivan let out a needy growl, eyes darkened with lust as he began thrusting his fingers faster into Yao. He slid his third finger in and nearly ravished Yao then when he moaned out in approval, pushing his hips down, sending the digits further inside of him.

Ivan stared down, mesmerized, and soaked up every detail of Yao beneath him; hands clenched in fists against his chest, lips parted, a line of drool slipping out at the effort, kiss swollen lips, panting and calling out in pleasure. The feelings of his small, shuddering body moving down on his fingers, craving hi, his velvet walls nearly sucking in his fingers in need. It was too much to handle and Ivan needed to be inside of him.

Wrapping his free arm under Yao, he lifted him onto his lap, slipping his fingers out with a soft pop and centering his cock at the base of Yao's entrance.

"Take me, Ivan," he whispered in his ear, tongue leaving his lips to lick the skin beneath his lobe. Letting out a groan, Ivan gripped Yao's hips and pushed him downward. Both men let out a jagged gasp, muscles quivering as Ivan slowly filled Yao. The stretch inside of Yao was intoxicating, savoring the pleasure as Ivan spread him. The slow, drawn out thrusts were abandoned with a broken growl from Ivan, unable to handle the friction any longer. Digging his nails in the sweet, smooth skin, be began to move Yao up and down at a quicker pace, digging his cock deep within the small man.

As Ivan moved his body, Yao gave up trying to control his voice; rolling his body in smooth, fluid movements, he met his thrusts and called out each time. He began whispering Ivan's name like a mantra, sighing and moaning, creating a symphony as their bodies met together. Drowning in Yao's heat, Ivan joined in on the song, groaning and whispering foreign, Russian words in the Chinese mans ear.

"More, Ivan!" Yao called, giving a particular rough thrust downward as their pace heated up, growing in intensity as Ivan forced him to bounce, "Harder, please.. Ah-hnn… Ivan!"

Reaction instant, Ivan pushed forward with his body weight and set Yao on the bed on his back. One hand gripping the headboard, Ivan used his free paw to swing his legs over his shoulders and grip his hips. The shift of positions caused an immediate reaction- as soon as Ivan began thrusting again, Yao's moans grew louder as his cock pushed deeper inside of him, hitting his prostate with every move.

Bodies falling closer to a climax, Ivan rammed into Yao, rougher, harder, faster. He felt Yao's cock slid against his abdomen, weeping it's juices in it's urgency for release.

"Please- Ivan!" Yao cried, his hands moving everywhere; clawing at the sheets, ranking his nails down Ivan's chest, pushing against the headboard as he shamelessly moving his hips in time with the Russian.

"Yao, my Yao," Ivan panted, feeling himself falling with Yao, eyes half lidded in his stubbornness to watch every one of the smaller mans reactions. He changed the pace of his thrusts, making them sharp and deep as he moved faster. Yao began writhing beneath the Russian, arching his back, rubbing their chests together as theirs fell and rose at a rapid pace. Yao didn't need Ivan to stroke him to completion; forcing his heavy lids open, Yao reached up and a hand and gently stroked Ivan's face with trembling finger tips, the violet orbs automatically locking with his.

Gazing into each other eyes, Ivan thrusting into him, his iron grip leaving dark purple marks, Yao let his head hand back and cry out the Russians name. In an instant he came, muscles contracting under his sweat soaked skin, releasing his seed on both their abdomens. Digging his nails into the headboard, Ivan answered Yao's call with a whisper of his name, giving one final thrust as he came inside of the smaller man.

Tongues poking out, their rough pants filled with air as they both came down from their highs; Ivan carefully slid himself out of Yao, falling to the bed to lay next to him, opening his arms in invitation. Letting out a sigh of contentment, Yao rolled over and fell into those strong arms, resting his tired face in the crook of his neck. Neither of them spoke, but the silence was peaceful as they slowly controlled their labored breathing.

"So what does this mean?" Yao finally asked, moving his head so it fell against a soft pillow, once again caught in Ivan's gaze.

"Whatever you'd like, my Yao. I just hope that it does not end tonight," Ivan responded, towering over to plant a gentle kiss against his forehead. Yao closed his eyes at the touch, finding exhaustion descending on him in an instant.

"I'd like it to mean something." His words were mumbled as he snuggled closer to Ivan's warmth, basking in his arms.

Yao didn't know what would happen after this night. How long they would last, if they would work- if Yao was willing to let Ivan in. But laying in the Russians arms, listening to his hypnotic heartbeat that slowly ticked him into sleep, nothing else mattered in the world. Only here, only now, and only the two of them.

Yao didn't know what the future would do to the two of them, but he would be damn sure to keep Ivan as long as possible, never alone on the other side of the bar.