The Runaway Prince☘Rusame

Chapter 15

Kazakhstan eyed the pair. He was taking in all the details. He grabbed Americas arm gently and pulled him toward himself. America stumbled, but was fine otherwise. Russia's reaction on the other hand, told Kazakhstan all he needed to know. When America stumbled. Russia reached out to grab him. And not just his arm, but to scoop him up in his arms and make sure he was okay. Kazakhstan's eyes narrowed at Russia.

"Brother?" Russia said, confused. Kazakhstan gave Russia a tight smile, then pulled America to his side quickly.

"What happened? Did he do anything? Wh-" Kazakhstan started, plaguing America with questions. America laughed and smiled down at Kazakhstan, a look of gratefulness and warmth despite his snickering.

"Kaz! Trust me, I'm fine. Things went... well." America said, with a small grin. Kazakhstan studies America suspiciously, the Russia, before letting his arm go and sighing. 

"Fine, I'll believe you," Kazakhstan shot a look at Russia, " for now." He sighed finally and let a small smile slip. "I'm going to the restroom, I've been holding it in all day." Kazakhstan said, walking away in search of a restroom.

Russia turned to America as soon as he left, a small smirk on his face. "What was that about?" He asked, one of his eyebrows raised, dragging America back to the infirmary bed. America chuckled.

"Just Kaz being Kaz, the usual." He said in a joking tone. Russia nodded and let out a chuckle, he knew what America meant. America's heart jumped at the sound. This would always happen. He smiled himself, trying to stop the heat growing on his face.

Russia looked up at America, a look of curiosity on his face. he had felt America's skin get hot and his heart beat pulse through his body. America just now realized what situation he was in. Russia only had felt the change in behavior because he had his hand resting on the back of his leg, holding it in place. "What is it,Чудо?" Russia asked.

America opened his mouth to speak, but was having a minor love rush at the moment. He just realized that Russia was touching him, he was touching his bare skin, and that it was torture not having his hands everywhere else. The impulse to kiss Russia was more real than ever. He couldn't, he couldn't ruin this friendship that they had established, he just couldn't. Russia was still confused about the whole thing, not having processed the obvious answer.

Russia was about to speak again, when it hit him. America's heavy breathing, the blush, the wide eyes that avoid his, it was because of him. Russia started to blush as well, not believing his answer. He moved his hand up on America's leg a little, more toward his thigh, and America let out an almost unnoticeable gasp. Russia noticed it, and hesitantly moved it up further. America set his hand on his almost instinctively, and their eyes met.

They both saw the hunger, the thirst that had been building up over the past time, since America had gotten there. The wish for just one night, the desire for each other. America swallowed, he knew Russia knew, and he could see the same in Russia. Russia gently picked up America's hand and brought it to his mouth, lightly kissing it. By this time, they had forgotten about Americas leg with the half on half off bandages, and it was just them. Russia watched America's reaction as he slid his fingers under the sweater sleeve, lifting it as he kissed his hand, down toward his wrist, and up his arm. 

It was slow and gentle and tender, it was exciting. America gasped a little, the blush completely taking over his face, and his eyes locked with Russia's. They looked at each other, a hunger beyond their control on the verge of taking over. Then they heard footsteps. Russia quickly set America's hand down and went back to addressing his leg, and America looked at the ceiling, unsure on how to play it off.

"Ame! I meant to tell you, I went to see Canada today!" Kazakhstan said, happily prancing back into the nurses quarters. Though he perked up and focused his mind on Kazakhstan, America had to force himself to stop thinking about he and Russia's interaction, but it was hard when Russia kept moving his hand up the back of his leg, little by little.

~.-.~

Kazakhstan had left the castle after a few hours of talking, and Russia insisting he eat. Russia had gone to walk him out. America now sat on the bed of the infirmary, staring at the small set up Russia had next to his bed, and think about the earlier moments. He could still feel his lips on his skin, and the gentleness of his actions. Russia had slept on a few blankets next to Americas bed since the day he got there, and always waited for him to fall asleep first.

Russia returned with a gentle knock, and he cleared his throat. He seemed uneasy, worried about earlier. He sat down on the edge of America's bed, and sighed. How was he supposed to apologize? He didn't know how to apologize for something he wasn't sorry for. America moved closer to him, leaning his back against his shoulder, looking up at Russia. When their eyes met, Russia saw want. Russia saw need. Something was calling to him in the abyss of his eyes, and by god if he didn't answer...

Russia sighed as he turned his head toward the other. He knew what he was doing, sitting there in his favorite sweater, it slipping off his shoulders from its size. Russia snaked his arm around his waist and held him by his side for a moment, before looking down at him to meet his eyes again. "What is it, Чудо?" He asked again, just like earlier, except now he knew what it was. He knew what the answer was, and he knew how to fix it.

America looked up at him, his eyes lidded and a small smile on his face. "You." America responded. Russia's heart started to pound. Their faces were so clos to each other now, all he had to do...

America's eyes looked to Russia's lips, then back to his eyes. Russia held his hand up to hold America's face gently. America let this happen. Russia closed his eyes. The next thing he knew, America's lips were on his. It wasn't fast or rushed, it was more slow than anything. America lifted his hand up and placed it over Russia's, their fingers intertwining.

America and Russia sat there, the souls of the pair connecting and there was a spark. Russia turned toward America as he deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue in his mouth, exploring every inch of it. America was laying against the bed, and looked up at the Russian, who held a passion beyond anything he had ever seen before. But he also saw the hesitancy, and the unsureness.

America sat up, Russia in-between his legs. He looked at Russia, this was just their first kiss. Russia had let out a sigh of relief, maybe now wasn't a good time. America eyed Russias face, not understanding much. He wanted to trust that Russia was a good person, and that he would protect him, but his years of psychological trauma made it hard. He didn't want to be a burden on him, but he needed someone who could handle him.

Russia settled himself on the bed next to America, sighing and taking off his ushanka. America smiled and lay back, shifting into a comfortable position so that he and Russia weren't touching. Russia lay with his head propped on his elbow. He reached over and brushed some hairs out of Americas face. The moon seemed to shine on him perfectly. Russia smiled gently. He would sacrifice his own life for the one who gave him a chance. America giggled and turned to him, a smile on his face. They were at peace. They could sort things out later.

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ehe, this is the last we'll be getting of Russ and America for a while... Time for plot advancements.. 😈😈

PLEASE SUGGEST A CANADA SHIP (specifiy genders) I CAN'T DECIDE WHICH ONE I WANT. Or he can be AroAce??? Idkk

DOUBLE POST??? I decided ima do a posting spree, just going as fast as I can. Don't worry, I can assure quality will not be effected!!