Posts by IAMGERMANANDSTUFF

Russia let out a loud sigh. The ball was going well, but he had come with out a date; and he was the HOST! He adjusted his mask once more and took a sip from his flask. His masquerde ball was the most extravagant in the country. Well, of Russia at least. He heaved another sigh and ascended the red carpeted steps of the main stair. All eyes were suddenly on the Russian; who was clad in an almost evil looking black suit and mask combo.
"Welcome, my guests! Welcome! The music shall start shortly, so please continue to enjoy the wine and hors' doerves!" He announced. A small cheer went up from his guests. He smiled and finished walking down the stairs. He took another long drink fro his flask and tucked it into his coat. He wished he had date. This night would not be as lonely with one. Ivan's violet eyes flicked over the crowd, surely the most important guest (to him anyway) had come.

Severus let out a deep sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. This day had been so long. So tiring. Just absurd. Snape stared out the small window up from his stony dungeon class room. That Seamus Finnigan had nearly blown the whole classroom sky high. And that Potter git had laughed in his face afterwards as Severus had desperately tried to put the fire out.
THAT DARN POTTER! He let out another sigh and dropped down heavily into his chair. He looked over the open rolls of parchment which were speckled in his red curving hand writing. How boring.
His dark black eyes shifted and rested on his planter box. Dandelions, again. He could've bored holes in them as he stared. They reminded him of that Potter git's fluffed up, never lying flat hair.

(Yes ma'am! :D)

The Russian smiled widely, "So, he did come." Ivan thought as he stalked over to the bar. He sat down two seats from Alfred and ordered vodka, his flask could use a refill after all. "Prevet," he said, looking over to the American.

"I'm glad you came." He said scooting over a few seats. Soon, he was sitting right next to the America. He drained his vodka and smiled at him. He showed his slightly crooked teeth by smiling so widely. It was already known that the Russian was bad news. His violet eyes flicked down to the beer in the American's hand.
"How many have you had?" He asked, eyeing Alfred's bright blue eyes through his black mask.

(Yes, I am. :) Neonglow showed it to me.)

"Good." He said with a smirk, "Last time you got drunk and ruined my party." Ivan's eyes lit up with mischief. Suddenly music filled the air. Slowly, couples began to file onto the dance floor. Russia looked at him raising an eyebrow, "Would you like to dance?" He asked, offering his black gloved hand to the American.

The Russian smiled his crooked grin once more and brought the American's hand to his lips. He kissed the topside of the bare hand very lightly, but slowly, as if reaching out to stroke a scared animal. He then led Alfred onto the dance floor. All the couples around them spread away in feat of their host.

(i'm sorry for the slow reply! My connection is bad!)

Ivan chuckled and placed a hand on Alfred's hip, "You know, your face is an open book. You have very expressive eyes as well." He murmured, leaning a bit to adjust Alfred's mask. "If you keep it on properly, I'm sure no one would know who you were." He smiled and pulled America close, "You do know how to ballroom dance, don't you?"

Russia started them off in a smooth waltz. They circled the dance floor with slowly lazy spins and steps. Ivan frowned down at him, "Must you look so uncomfortable?" He had a hint of hurt in his tone as he said so.

Ivan smiled more widely than he had all night. He even laughed a little. He then began moving more quickly. Their slow waltz quickly became a heated tango. Ivan spun him quickly and pulled him close once more.

The music stopped and so did Ivan. He gave Alfred a hug. "Thank you for the dance, Fredka." He said softly. He slowly walked away, head held low. What did he have to feel sad about? Maybe, something was wrong? After all, Alfred's eyes were extremely expressive.

Ivan let out a heavy sigh as he came out onto the balcony. He pulled out a pack of fags and a lighter. He pulled out a fag and lit it. Ivan tore off his mask and brought the fag shakily to his lips. That was close. Too close. He nearly - oh, he didn't even want to think about it.

(it's fine. :) Also, we call cigarettes "fags" in England, so.)

(cool! :) I also moved to America a little while ago. :) I'm glad you like it! I love this pairing to death. *_*)

Ivan loosened his scarf and leaned against the railing. No one would even know he was up here. He was alone. He pulled the fag from his lips and breathed out the smoke. Ivan had let himself go. He shook his head and rubbed his eyes before pulling the fag back to his lips.

Russia put out his fag and adjusted his coat. He sighed and strode as quickly to the bathroom as he could. The vodka he had been drinking had gone straight to his bladder. He let out an annoyed huff and slipped into the bathroom. Ivan stopped in his tracks, staring down at the sleeping American. The Russian rolled his eyes and picked the American up bridal style.

(okie dokie! Everyone calls me IAG&S for short.)

Ivan sighed and smiled a bit. Alfred was so silly sometimes. Guests looked at him with terrified expressions as they realized where he was taking the American. Russia was ascending the stairs to his bedroom. He slipped into the dark corridor and opened the massive oak wood door that led into his room. He laid America gently down onto the bed before covering him up.

Russia sighed and stroked a hand through Alfred's wheaten locks. He looked so serene and relaxed. And Ivan couldn't just leave him here by himself either. Might as well curl up next to him. So that's what Ivan did. He crawled into bed next to him and hugged him from behind. "Good night, Fredka."
(gtg)

(ello! G'morning!)
Ivan smiled widely and held Alfred closer, "Sleep well, Fredka." He murmured. He nuzzled the American's ear and let out a purr.

(i only woke up an hour ago! :D)
Ivan tensed, nervous that he had awoken the American. Ivan pulled away slightly and let out a whimper. The Russian wanted America to like him. He didn't want to anger him.

(well, I do! It's 11:41 where I am. :) )
Ivan sighed and slipped off of the bed. It made him too nervous. He couldn't handle it. The Russian had been harshly rejected so many times, he couldn't screw this up. He wouldn't.

Ivan stayed silent. He kept pressed to the wall, so not to be noticed. War had taught him many things, one of them being; when in one's own territory, if the enemy is near stay quiet and attack them when they least expect it. After all, the enemy is unfamiliar with it's surroundings.