WARNING

Violent sexual themes

DISCLAIMER

I'm too poor to own anything

A/N: So yes. Vancouver was amazing. And yes. It rained the whole time. (sob sob) Sorry to keep you ladies and fan boys waiting.

SEXY THANKS: to bombayxprodigy for editing skillllzz

Just as a side note, today my mom told me she bought a fireplace for my room. …. I'm still having trouble comprehending HOW THE HELL THAT WORKS….

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Quiet laughter trickled from the darkness, the same laughter Canada thought he had imagined before.

It was neither pleasant nor comforting.

He held his breath as he listened to the noise, trying to distinguish which corner of the room it was coming from. But the stone walls echoed the disturbance from every corner.

The laugh died down, and was replaced by words,

"A visitor? Or…" The voice was haunted, similar to the empty clang of a church bell. Like a deep voiced man who spoke with a high pitch. "A new friend?"

Canada's eyes widened as he felt the man whisper directly in his ear. But… when did he get so close? Matthew hadn't heard any movement from the room, and only a moment ago the voice was distant.

"My guest must be hungry…"

"W-who are you?" Canada asked.

"Me?" The man paused.

Without warning two large hands yanked Canada from the ground, clasping him from behind. Canada could feel the man's broad chest pressed uncomfortably against his back, his body towering over Canada's own. He rested his chin at the base of the blonde's neck, nuzzling sickeningly close.

"Your friend." he answered.

Matthew grimaced as the man ran his tongue up the side of his cheek. "Tasty…" The man whispered in Canada's ear, his accent harsher than his rough hands. Gears began to turn in Canada's head, this is…

"R-Russia..?."

The hands around Canada's stomach tightened and the man hissed in his ear. "Oh… my new friend is perhaps an old friend?"

"N-no." Canada stuttered.

The man chuckled deeply, "Let's eat little friend. You've made me hungry."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Canada sat hugging his knees, his back pressed against a cold wall. The two sat opposite a high slim window that cast a night glow over them. Canada's eyes had finally adjusted to the darkness, and he could make out the intimidating figure of Russia sitting in front of him.

Russia's eyes never wavered from Canada's face.

The hunger clawing at Matthew's stomach didn't allow him to pass up the food he was offered. It wasn't much, as the two were in prison, but the small plate of cold rice became the highlight of the day, and within a few bites, he consumed it all.

When Canada was finished, he put the plate down, and glanced over to Russia. The man was still watching him, and hadn't moved. Canada noticed Russia had no plate of his own.

Realization dawned "Oh, I'm s-sorry!" Canada gasped, "I didn't even think to ask if you had any!" The damage was done. For all he knew, the small plate of rice was for the two of them to share. What if that was their only food for the day, or worse, the week?

He was beginning to feel less like a soldier, and more like the pathetic country most assumed he was.

"No no." Russia smiled, "It's all yours."

"I thought you were hungry?"

"I am."

Though Russia remained still, Canada felt as if the man grew larger.

"Russia"-

"Ivan."

"Ivan…" Matthew repeated. "I don't know what your intentions are bu"-

Russia rushed forward pressing his hand against the wall, leaving his head uncomfortably close to Canada's. Feeling trapped, Canada felt Russia's warm tongue graze his bottom lip.

"W-What?" Canada choked on his own voice.

The tip of Russia's tongue disappeared back into his mouth, and the glint of a smirk replaced it. "A grain of rice was on your lip".

The man leaned back and stood from his place on the floor, his upper body leaving the dim light. Canada slid down the wall, and watched the large man's feet nervously. Once again, Russia wasn't moving.

"It tasted good."

"The rice?" Canada questioned meekly.

Russia didn't acknowledge the question. "You know, I've been down here for so long. I've become lonely." For a large man, Russia's footsteps were oddly light. "It is such a treat for me, to have a friend…" His body slowly disappeared into the shadows.

"I-Ivan?" Canada asked the darkness.

Not a sound.

Matthew began to gently gnaw the inside of his cheek. Don't let his mind games get to you, he thought, you are supposed to be thick skinned, you are supposed to be America…

The cold sound of metal scraping lightly against the stone floor caught Canada's attention.

"Would you like to play a game?" Russia's body crept back into the moonlight, his face heavily shadowed. His shirt was absent and Canada could see the sick purple tinge to his thick body. Though Russia didn't appear very muscular, he looked hard and heavy.

Canada bit hard on the soft cheek between his teeth.

"It's called Truths." Russia brought the long bar he had been dragging across the floor to the light. Though metallic, it didn't shine due to rust, and the faucet attached to one end formed a handle that Russia held firmly. "The rules are simple… don't lie."

Russia walked up to Canada's small figure and looked down on him again, a fake smile plastered to his face. "First question…what is your name?"

Canada began to shake, and clenched his fists to control his body.

"A-Alfred" he jutted out, looking to the ground.

A cold silence.

A mock expression of disappointment dawned Russia's face.

"Oh, but Canada, you've already lost."

Matthew felt as if a lump of led had fallen into his stomach.

Russia dropped to his knees and reached a hand out to Canada. Matthew shut his eyes and turned his head, but instead of his throat, Russia grabbed a fistful of shirt collar, and pulled Canada forward until their foreheads met. Matthew was forced to look into the dull violet eyes of Russia.

"What are you going to do?" Canada whispered.

"I'm going to eat you" Russia responded, no humor to his voice.

His mouth crushed down onto Canada, who was too shocked to reject the advance. He forced Canada's mouth open painfully wide, his tongue assaulting the back of Canada's throat. When he was done the invasion, he began sucking painfully on the smaller boy's tongue.

Meanwhile, Russia's hands found there way to Canada's lower back where they began pushing up the shirt, caressing along the sides of the slender body. When the shirt had been pushed up high enough, Russia parted from Canada's mouth to force the material over the boy's head, leaving it tangled around his hands.

"S-Stop!" Canada pleaded. His mouth felt raw and disgusting,

With one hand, Russia pinned Canada's tied hands above his head to the wall, and with the other, forced Canada onto his lap, scooting forward so there was minimal space between them. Canada's legs straddled Russia's bent knees.

"New question. Why are you pretending to be your brother?" Though his tone seemed uninterested, Russia tightened his grip on Canada's hands, rekindling the pain from his burn marks. Matthew gasped, but clamped his mouth shut saying nothing.

"I see…" Russia said disappointed. He lowered his head to Canada's chest, and bit hard on the left nipple. Matthew bit down on his own lip, feeling his eyes water,

Russia sucked the pink flesh, flicking with his tongue until the nipple grew hard, then proceeded to the other. Every time Canada's body jerked away, Russia pushed harder on Canada's hands, grinding them into the stone.

Finally Ivan pulled his head away and licked at his bottom lip as if savoring the flavor.

"Last question…Do you want to become one with Russia?" Though the question was a cruel joke, there was a sick undertone of hope.

"I…I…" Canada couldn't answer.

"Hmm?" Russia urged.

"P-please…stop this…"

He sighed. "Once again little friend, you have failed to answer my question. The game is over". Russia relieved his hold of Canada's hands, and they fell heavily to his lap. He lifted Canada carefully up, and put him back on the cold floor. Matthews's eyelids were heavy, and he found himself on the verge of consciousness. Half in a nightmare and half in blissful sleep. Why did his body crave sleep whenever he found himself in the least desirable situations?

Am I nothing more than an object? Russia's cold fingers left a burning trail over Canada's body, and the taste of Russia's mouth still lingered in Canada's throat. The physical torment was nothing compared to the helplessness Canada felt.

Ivan grabbed the metal faucet he had left on the floor and used it as leverage to stand himself up. From Matthews's blurred vision, it appeared Ivan was cradling the metal pole. "I'm sorry…" He thought he heard him mumble to the faucet. "But our friend is tired tonight… you can play with us next time…"

I think I preferred Cuba… Canada said bitterly to himself.

A/C: WOW. That only took like… a month ://///

YES I AM VERY DISPLEASED WITH MYSELF.

When I started this fanfiction I was so into the idea, but after the first two chapters, I suddenly inspired myself to draw …AND DRAW I DID…FOR AN ENTIRE MONTH… AND IT WAS HOT.

In regards to my comment before the story: my fireplace came. It's electric. It's giant. And it's white. I love it.

I'm thinking of naming him Hoeinhiem of Light…

Any other ideas?