Nations were still filing in to the meeting room when Toris came in. He glanced around to see which seats were taken, choosing one next to Feliciano, the nation of Italy. He was a pretty neutral nation, right? Sure Ludwig yelled at him a lot during the meetings, but he wouldn't be unpleasant to sit by, as he didn't join the conversations very much. As it was, he was currently sleeping though, so he didn't get to greet him. Across from him, Roderich was locked in a verbal argument with Gilbert that was threatening to escalate to physical, but Elizaveta was already approaching. He sighed, such an eventful meeting already…

One by one the nations filed in, and Toris was looking over his list of subjects that he needed to comment on if they came up today. Power, natural gas, the Euro… He spotted a blond out of the corner of his eye, glancing up to see Feliks on the other side of the table. Smiling, he gave a wave to his friend. Feliks smiled back, going to come around the table. The Pole stopped suddenly, his expression changing to anger. Toris felt a body brush his own as someone sat down next to him, and he glanced over. Green eyes widened a little, his heart picking up its pace. "I-Ivan…"

"Who else would I be?" The Russian smiled, violet eyes oh so playful right now. Ivan gave a wave to Feliks, who was glaring now.

"So totally not fair! I was going to—!"

"Alright everyone!" Ludwig's booming voice filled the room, drawing all eyes towards the front of the table. "Take your seats, it's time to begin!" Glancing back to Feliks, he watched the blond sit down reluctantly. Even more so when Gilbert poked his shoulder, giving a little wave. Oh, now that was going to be fun… Giving a sigh, Toris tried hard not to look beside him. Thankfully Ludwig was standing at the head of the table, away from Ivan. Feliciano had woken up a little, though he was resting his head in his arms still. He probably just didn't want to get yelled at again, and Toris didn't blame him. The German could be rather frightening, he knew first hand…

But not nearly as frightening as the nation sitting on the other side of him. He could feel those eyes on him even without looking. Across the table, Gilbert and Feliks were still bickering quietly while Roderich was occasionally trying to shush them. Ludwig was starting the meeting off with recent events, and the eco-friendly German's first topic was pollution. This only got Alfred and Arthur to point fingers at Yao, who began shouting almost immediately. Toris sighed.

That was, until he felt something brush his thigh. Sitting up a bit straighter, he glanced over to Ivan. The Russian smiled quite boldly, his fingertips sliding towards the inside of Toris' thighs this time. "Ah!" Toris gasped, and more than a few eyes turned towards him. He blushed at the sudden attention, even more when he realized Ivan wasn't stopping. He tried to close his legs together, but Ivan only wiggled his fingers in between those sensitive thighs.

"Did you have something to add, Mr. Laurinaitis?" Ludwig asked, raising an eyebrow.

"What? Oh, no! Ah, actually yes! About the gas lines in Eastern Europe…" He held in his gasp when he felt Ivan's hand grip his thigh. Ah, that's right. Ivan wasn't fond of his ideas to get away from dependence on him for natural gas. "M-my plan is still… moving ahead, but it…" The Russian's hand released his thigh, instead slipping up between them again. Toris tensed as they reached the end—pressing right against his groin. "I-it…"

"It'll go through me!" Feliks spoke up, raising his hand. He stood up, hands flat on the table. Ivan's fingers seemed to give a twitch of irritation, and for a moment Toris feared he would grip something else; something much more precious than his thigh. But they didn't. He simply turned his palm towards Toris' stomach, rubbing subtly up and down. Toris' lips parted ever so slightly.

"Mr. Łukasiewicz, please sit down. Right now Mr. Laurinaitis has the floor." Ludwig frowned.

"N-no…" A second later, Toris realized he had spoken up out loud. "I-I mean no, it's alright!"

"We are not done!" China protested, glaring back to Alfred in particular. "You always telling me what to do! You just complaining about pollution to bother me!"

"What? Dude, it's true!" The nations at the head of the table dissolved into argument again and Feliks rolled his eyes, sitting back down. Thankfully he was distracted by Gilbert again, and Toris' gaze moved then to Feliciano beside him. The Italian wasn't at all disturbed by the shouting, yawning and resting his head down, watching the chaos. Finally, green eyes turned back to Ivan, narrowed with displeasure. But oh, something was feeling pleasure right now. He squirmed slightly in his seat.

"Ah, Alfred is too critical." Ivan spoke up, and Toris blinked. He looked back towards the head of the table in panic. Though the other nations had settled their eyes on the Russian, no one seemed to notice he was doing anything out of the ordinary. Meanwhile, Ivan's fingers spread apart, forming to the outline of Toris' quickly responding body. Damn his Pavlovian methods! Toris was practically trained to respond to that hand!

"Damn it Ivan, you're just pissed because your people can't even decide who their real boss is!" Alfred countered. "Who is Obama supped to talk to? Putin or Medvet. Mevdev. Medve… Whatever his name is!" Ivan laughed.

"You're good at politics, are you Alfred? You can't even say my president's name!" His fingers increased in the pressure of their rubbing, and Toris shuddered, hands moving to clasp together tightly on the table. He refused to look at Ivan anymore, stubbornly ignoring his advances. Alfred was about to give a retort when Yao spoke up again, only agreeing with Ivan about Al being critical. Ludwig joined in defense of the American, trying to explain to the Chinese man the nature of the pollution in his capitol alone.

"Nnh." Toris gave an ever so quiet sound, hands trembling slightly. Ivan's fingers slid all the way down between his legs, cupping underneath before he drug them back up again. It didn't matter how tightly his legs were pressed together, Toris couldn't stop it. The arguing was growing louder now. Toris' lips parted again, his breath short, but controlled. He wouldn't give Ivan the pleasure of reacting! However, his arousal was painfully hard already. Ivan turned his hand, rubbing his knuckles at the base with a bit firmer pressure than his fingers had given.

Ludwig was trying to calm everyone down by now, and Feliciano was starting to wake up more fully. Oh God, oh God… Toris was trembling all over, and he knew by the heat of his face that he was blushing. Rising one hand, he rubbed at the bridge of his nose. His hips were begging him to move into that hand, heels leaving the floor as his pleasure mounted. Try as he might to control his breath, his chest shuddered with the effort. Ivan switched to the end of his thumb, following the length of that full member until he found the head, rubbing under it lightly through the fabric.

"Hey! Toris! Are you alright?" It was Alfred who shouted, and Toris' head snapped back up.

"A-a-ah, yes! J-just a headache…"

"I don't blame you, this is getting tiring." Roderich spoke up, arms crossed.

"No change subject, Alfred!" Yao demanded.

"Yes Alfred, do mind your own business." Ivan chimed in, smiling so wide that his cheeks had to be sore from it.

"Everyone!" Ludwig shouted, slamming his hands onto the table. "One at a time!" Ten voices spoke up at once, and the German looked taken back.

"Ahh…aah…haa…" Toris voice began to come out quietly as his back arched. His lower lip trembled as he felt his pleasure building, reaching critical levels… If he called Ivan out now, and Ivan played ignorant, he would only be accused of being paranoid of the large nation again. "H…HAND CHECK!" All voices quieted. One by one the nations held up their hands—and Ivan was one of the first. It was required that all nations give a show of hands when someone declared those words, stemming back from the days when one was worried there might be a weapon under the table. Toris was sweating, looking around the table quickly. "I-I… everyone was shouting, and…I got nervous." He bit his lower lip. Even Feliciano had been snapped out of his lazy state to stare at the Lithuanian.

"Like, you're totally flushed Liet!" Feliks spoke up.

"Oh my, you are." The corner of Ivan's lips twitched, doing his best to look worried now. Toris swallowed, doing his best not to glare.

"I-I think I need to take something, my stomach…"

"Very well, Toris." It was Arthur who spoke up, his own expression strained from all of the arguing. "Go on ahead, we'll finish hearing your statement when all of this gets civil again." Toris nodded quickly, turning in his seat to snatch his coat from the back of his chair. He brought it to his lap, standing to let it cover him below the waist. Ivan was smiling again, and his gaze wasn't even on the Lithuanian as he passed by behind him. He didn't need to say anything anyway; Toris knew what the Russian was thinking. I won.

Toris didn't care. Right now what he needed was release! He nearly stumbled out of the conference room, heading for the bathrooms down the hall. He nearly collapsed when he saw the big OUT OF ORDER sign on the door. Biting his lower lip, he tested the handle. Ah, it was unlocked! Well he didn't want to use the toilet or anything, and this way he wouldn't be disturbed, right? He slipped inside, closing the door behind him. Tossing his coat onto the sink counter he rushed to the last stall, the largest one, stepping inside and closing the door behind him out of habit. He didn't lock it though, so it remained open about an inch. He reached for his belt, undoing it with a click and a jingle of the buckle.

However he stopped at that, freezing in thought. If he did this, did it really mean that Ivan had 'won'? But, could he possibly wait it out? He needed this so badly…! How long had it been…? Despite Feliks' advances, he'd resisted. Work had kept him up late and raised him early; he barely had time to himself… Just as he undid the button of his pants, he heard the door to the bathroom click open. Eyes widening, he turned around, holding his breath. It closed again, and for a moment he thought they might have left. The heavy sound of boots corrected this thought, and he nearly gave a whimper. Maybe if he was quiet, waited until they left… Shit. His coat!

The footsteps continued slowly, coming ever closer to his stall. He reached for the door to latch it, but instead it swung open, hitting the wall with a crash. "Aahh!" Toris yelped, pulling his hand back. Ivan stood over him with a raised eyebrow and a smile, and Toris felt his heart in his throat.

"Tsk, tsk, Toris. Is this what you have been reduced to?"

"H-how…?"

"They called a break after you left to let everyone cool off, so I came to find you!"

"Wh…Why, Ivan?" Toris asked with a shuddering voice. Ivan's expression shifted to a frown.

"You haven't called, haven't written… Ever since this gas dispute I haven't heard a word from you! Are you planning on becoming like sestra, and avoiding me all together?" His voice was almost pained. Toris shook his head.

"That was never my intention Ivan. I've been busy…Ah!" Toris stepped back as Ivan entered the stall, latching the door behind him. Toris' back was soon against the wall, Ivan's hand beside his head. The Russian leaned in close, enough for his breath to be felt on Toris' lips. His voice was only a whisper.

"It's been months for me, Toryshka. Has it been for you?" His question dared him to say no. Toris only nodded honestly, biting his lower lip again. Ivan smiled, pleased by this. "I should punish you."

"I-Ivan, that's no—!" He was stopped by two fingers pressed over his full lips.

"Shh shh, dorogaya. I have no wish to harm you right now." He assured, removing his fingers. Their breath mingled again, lips brushed. "I would rather pleasure you." He'd give the Lithuanian a reason to visit this time, Ivan thought as he dropped down to his knees.