Rendezvous

Alfred willed his arm to move. If only it would move! But it hung useless at his side, completely unresponsive to his command to strike out and choke the motherfucker who had stabbed and pinned him to the wall. The knife was buried to the hilt. Blood oozed in a thick trickle that spread and stained his fatigues, but where the pain seared in his shoulder he felt nothing of his arm.

The bastard Braginski was holding his other arm above his head in a vice-like grip. He would have fought to free himself, but every movement sent numbing shoots of pain as his flesh scraped along the serrated blade. He struggled to keep still, his breathing coming out in pained laboured pants. He wracked his brains for an option, an overlooked opportunity somewhere that would turn the tables on the Ruski, but nothing came to mind.

He was trapped.

"You're trapped."

"Gee, really? I hadn't noticed." Alfred would have rolled his eyes as well, but he was still searching for an escape route.

Ivan only smiled.

Still pinning Alfred's arm above his head, Ivan let his free hand wander down his captive's torso, regretfully noting that the layers of his uniform made it difficult to explore the outline of his body. He smoothed his hand past Alfred's hips, sliding back to give that delectable rear a squeeze; Alfred jumped and cursed as the knife tore along his flesh.

"What the fuck! Oh fuck! Fuck off, you twisted fuck! You sick fucking commie, fucking bas-!"

Ivan's fist slammed into the side of his face and the world erupted into a roar. He tasted blood. The sting from the blow bloomed along with the bruise on his cheek, and he spat out a mouthful of blood as his ears rang with white noise. Winded and completely disorientated, it took a while for him to regain enough of his bearings to feel Ivan's hand slipping into his combat trousers.

"My, but you do seem to be enjoying this," Ivan said with a childish giggle as his hand slid down the length of Alfred's hardening cock. Alfred flushed. When he attempted to pull away, Ivan tightened his hold on his cock, and he let out a yelp; a sound that was not entirely displeasure.

"Fuck you!" He meant it to come out more forceful than it sounded. Ivan gave a low chuckle.

"Your mouth says one thing but your body says quite the opposite, Private Jones."

Ivan was stroking Alfred into a full erection. The leather of his fingerless gloves tugged at Alfred's skin as he stroked, and he could tell that it felt good by the way Alfred tensed and shuddered.

He released Alfred abruptly – there was a flash of disappointment, he was pleased to note – and undid the front of his own trousers, drawing out his erection. He watched as understanding dawned on Alfred, his pupils dilating to an impossible blue.

Alfred yelped again as Ivan pulled down his trousers in one rough action. Panic drummed a rapid beat in his chest, but it was not until he felt Ivan's cock – hot and hard and huge against his thigh – that he thought to resist.

"No, stop! Stop!"

He thrashed against the wall, oblivious to the knife digging into his shoulder, but Ivan held firm to him with his own brute strength. Eventually, Alfred weakened as the pain in his shoulder caught up to him.

"You want this," Ivan said, voice hoarse with a lust of his own. He guided his cock to Alfred's ass and pressed against the muscled ring of his rear entrance.

The first thrust was swift and brutal; Alfred took a sharp intake of breath. The second thrust had Ivan buried to the hilt and Alfred let out a choke, feeling as if he was being ripped apart. He swore at Ivan through gritted teeth, spitting out strings of curses that ran together and turned incoherent, until he ran out of breath entirely and was left simply panting for air.

Ivan's thrusts came quick and fast, intent on his own pleasure at the expense of Alfred's comfort. The pain eventually dulled but it never went away, not even when Alfred felt small jolts from the depths of something carnal that was comparably pleasurable. They simply mixed together, pain and desire, his own cock twitching at the curious sensations, his breath hitching and taking on a raw quality.

He wanted… he wanted to come. No, he needed to come! The pressure was building, and he felt it intensely in his neglected cock which strained to be touched. He struggled to free his hand again, but Ivan held it tight and thrust harder into him, thinking it another attempt at escape, and it was all simply too much.

"Touch me!" Alfred hissed, full of want.

Ivan blinked through the haze of his own pleasure. He wrapped his hand around Alfred's cock and stroked it in time to his thrusts, groaning along with Alfred's moans, and it wasn't long before they peaked.

Alfred came first, coming hard in thick white ropes soiling Ivan's hand and the front of his uniform. He was taut as a strung bow, but once he was spent he slumped into the wall in a boneless mass, fighting for air. Ivan snapped his hips forward for a final time before he came as well, spurting his seeds deep into Alfred's ass. He dropped his head into the crook of Alfred's neck as his gasps mixed with Alfred's.

"I… hate… you…" Alfred said on a few stolen breaths. Ivan smiled.

"What a coincidence, Private Jones. I hate you too."

Based on a fanart by PunPuniChu.