It was sometime around midnight, perhaps even later, when the festivities finally began to die down a bit, though the large man with the ashy hair did not notice others beginning to leave the outdoor festival area from his perch, as drunk as he was at this point

The somewhat-husky man took another large swig of the bottle he held, having long forgotten glasses at this point of the night. It had no taste anymore, and the burn as the liquid slid down his throat was a much more welcome pain than the dull stabbing sensation of the memories. The memories he always wanted to forget but was forced to confront every year at this insipid annual get-together.

1989 had been the beginning of the end, he supposed. It had been Poland who had started it - that one had never behaved like he should have, and reflecting back, he wondered if he should have come down on him harder for this, even though he himself had been in no position to do such a thing. Logic was not something that often entered this man's mind, especially when he was this drunk.

Yes, 1989, in Spring. Poland had started it and the others had followed. The Berlin Wall had fallen that autumn, and then they all left him alone and more broken than ever before. He tried to tell himself he didn't care, didn't really give a shit what they thought. What did they know, anyway?

Very shortly after they had humiliated him - it couldn't have been more than four or five years after the fact - someone had the gall to suggest a celebration of the end of the world's largest communist regime. And every year, ever since - another large swig, this time he shuddered as the cheap liquid went down. Of course, he had to come, had to put on an act, as if he was happy for them, when he really just wanted to see them frown. He did so like it when others looked more troubled than he felt.

Again Russia brought the bottle up, frowning when he realised it was empty, and dropping it with the others.

"I do believe you've had enough," a soft voice behind him caused the large country to whirl around and lose his balance. Arms reached out to catch him, and Russia fought to focus, his vision almost as fuzzy as his thoughts.

"You-" he began, slurring as he spoke. "Y'don' know nothing."

"Niisan," the voice - he was almost positive he knew it, but could not place it, could not place the words- continued, "Niisan, you're drunk."

"Am not," he pouted.

"You can't even stand up straight," whoever was holding him continued matter-of-factly, no emotion piercing the feminine voice. "Come, Niisan, stop resisting. Come on, let's get you back to the hotel room."

Hands pulled at his coat, leading him to - well, he wasn't sure where, wasn't sure of anything except that moving this much was making him dizzy and so he clung to this strange woman so he wouldn't fall what felt like hundreds of kilos.

Finally he felt himself pushed down upon something soft. It was darker in here, and in his surprise he pulled his kidnapper down with him so that she was above him upon the bed. His vision was still unfocused, but he could now make out that he was with a girl - a very pretty girl - and Russia giggled without really knowing why. The girl sat up but didn't move any more than that, so that the two were perpendicular to each other.

He found himself reaching up, tugging her back down, all the while cracking up for no reason that he could discern.

Were it anyone else, they may have protested, even pushed away when Russia began sloppily suckling their neck. Belarus was not anyone else. Part of her knew she probably should stop such a thing, but she could honestly see no harm in it - after all, in his state he wouldn't possibly remember. She'd wanted this for so long, and he had initiated at long last - it couldn't possibly be taking advantage if he had initiated, could it?

Belarus told herself this as she began removing his jacket and the top beneath it. She repeated this in her head over and over until she was convinced. Continued repeating it until she was straddling him in nothing but her panties, all the while revelling in his sloppy, drunken, lustful kisses that fell indiscriminately upon her mouth, her entire face and jawline. When she tried to move up, she found him moving with her, leaning against the headboard of the bed as the two sat up and he continued suckling loudly at her neck.

"Niisan," she whispered in the dark.

He mumbled something into her collarbone, sounding just a little shiny and childish as he did so. She allowed herself a small almost-smile in the dark, and rather than continue her request vocally, she gently picked up one of his large hands off her thigh, placing it upon her pale, supple breast.

To her surprise and delight he began massaging it, tugging lightly on the nipple as his other hand rested warmly in the small of her back. He trailed his mouth and tongue down her body to take the milk-white globe he wasn't massaging into it, his prominent nose lightly tickling her on its way to her chest.

The sudden warm, wet sensation as he placed his mouth upon her nipple shocked her but wasn't entirely unpleasant, the way the hardness of his teeth contrasted with how gentle - and slightly clumsy - his right hand was with the other breast.

She tried to return the favour with her own two hands, but his body squirmed, shying away, and so she found herself settling for tousling - and slighlty tugging at - her brother's ash-blonde hair as he continued to attempt to devour her right teat.

Eventually his fingers found their way down from her chest, trailing down her stomach until they found her pink crevice. He began moving his index and middle fingers up and down the warm, moist slit in welcome little circular motions. Belarus found herself slightly rocking toward him, biting her lip to keep from making any noise and ruining this. She was finding it more and more difficult to keep her composure with every movement of his hand, which he in his drunken state was obviously focusing more on, his mouth barely doing anything anymore as his fingers moved up in her panties toward her clit.

Unable to take much more of this and feeling his hardness beneath her, she rolled off him in one quick movement to remove the offending garment. He rolled with her, now pinning her down and leering down at her, violet orbs hazy and unfocused, booze-scented breath heavy and face flushed.

She could make out a crooked, leering smile on his face in the dark as he loomed above her. She allowed her eyes a quick glance downward to see her precious brother's unclothed erection looming dangerously close to her as well. Finally, Belarus thought, her precious Russia-niisan would be one with her, if only for one night.

She began spreading her legs a bit, obligingly, and when Russia did not take the hint, Belarus took initiative herself, impatiently reaching out and gently placing his throbbing member closer and closer to her entrance until finally his alcohol-hindered mind understood and he sank in.

Before she could stop herself, Belarus let out a slight moan as her brother merely held himself there for a split second. She had not expected him to be so large, although she knew she should have, with the expanse of his land mass and all. He began moving inward even more, completely filling her in a way that would hurt if she didn't want it so bad, slowly at first but eventually harder, giving out little grunts in that deceptively high-pitched tone of his.

Eventually the years of repression got the best of her and Belarus allowed herself to completely lose herself in the sensations of finally being with her older brother whom she loved so much, her delicate hips wildly thrusting up against his body, feeling him deep inside her and hearing small smacking noises with every thrust. She could see his eyes were scrunched shut, he was biting his lip as he continued grunting, looking almost as if he were about to cry or something. In sharp contrast, Belarus forced herself to keep her eyes open as she watched her brother's beautifully imperfect face.

She cursed inwardly as a whimper escaped the back of her throat - Russia was so large that every time he slammed back down into her hot folds it was like entering for the first time, and his speed was ever-quickening. She gasped again, throwing her arms around his neck and whimpering his name over and over as she slowly pushed his head downwards until she captured his mouth in her own, having to manoeuvre a bit clumsily in the dark to accommodate his nose.

Belarus found herself thrusting her tongue into Russia's mouth with as much raw animalistic lust as he was thrusting himself into her cunt, and she knew she couldn't last much longer.

Finally, her whole body tightened up and she drew in a sharp breath as she released his mouth, shaking as she buried her face in his shoulder. Her body built up into an uncontrollable shudder as her orgasm hit her like a ton of bricks. A high pitched groan was the only noise she could make as she came, losing all control.

When some sense returned to Belarus a few minutes later, and the shivering had subsided, she rested her head back on the pillow and looked up at Russia, wondering what was taking him so long. She closed her eyes, put her hands on his shoulders and sighed as he stopped thrusting for a few agonising seconds, savouring the feeling, until he gasped loudly and just let go.

Her eyes again shot open when she felt the first jet up inside of her, watching Russia's head throw itself back as the second wave flooded her, dripping out onto the bedsheets. Belarus felt her own face tense up as she wrapped her arms around his neck again until his orgasm subsided and exhausted, he pulled out and flopped unceremoniously beside her on the bed, one hefty arm still laid out across her as he panted.

Belarus sighed again as she reached up to brush some hair away from his sweaty brow. "Niisan..." she whispered. "Thank you..."

Russia said nothing, allowing the drunkenness to fully consume him as sleep overtook him entirely.