You, Me, and your broken ankle (RusPol)

5

"You're such a pathetic faggot, I bet all you do is fantasize about other people. Do you jerk off to Poland? Do you think about him while you get off?" Russia mocked. Ukraine's eyes widened in shock. It wasn't like he didn't know that his brother was homophobic, but he had no idea that it was that bad. Not to mention that he didn't do any of these things, Russia seemed to just be projecting his own repressed desires. Maybe he wasn't so hetero after all. All these questions seemed a bit too specific. Russia slapped Ukraine's face, making him gasp and then let go of him.

"Tell me that you're not a perverted faggot, tell me that you are a normal, healthy male," Russia demanded. "I'm normal and healthy," Ukraine mumbled. "Tell me that you don't think about fucking Poland," Russia ordered. Ukraine stayed silent. "Say it or I'll beat the shit out of you," Russia continued. "I'm not even into Poland, why are you so obsessed with him if you hate him so much?" Ukraine asked carefully, rubbing his wrists. Russia paused and looked at Ukraine.

"I am not obsessed with him, he is just a sick fuck. I don't want you to turn into a sick fuck as well," Russia growled. "But you said you didn't care about my love life," Ukraine pointed out. Russia frowned. "But that was before I knew that you are a fag, or rather, think you are. Don't worry, I will help you cure it," he argumented. "Just get out of my room already," Ukraine sighed, kicking Russia away from his bed. Russia got up. "I will keep an eye on you at that party. If I see you acting any differently, I will tell Papa," he threatened.

Ukraine groaned in pure frustration. "Great, why don't you just take me there yourself?" he asked. Russia's eyes lit up. "Fine, I will," he said. "That's not what I meant," Ukraine growled. Russia grinned. "It was your idea, idiot," he replied and left the room.

***

The night was young and the party had just started. Russia followed Ukraine to the party. He didn't seem as happy about it anymore now that Russia was tagging along. But he also didn't want his brother to tell their father that Ukraine was a fag. That wouldn't be good. "If you fuck anyone I will tell Papa," Russia warned. Ukraine ignored him. They entered the house and went into the living room. The music was loud and there were lots of people, but Ukraine seemed to be familiar with the house. Like he has been here before. Russia knew that it was the house of the USA.

"The capitalists' house?!" he asked in disbelief. "You were originally not invited anyway, so don't say anything about the party," Ukraine replied coldly. The loud music almost made it hard to talk, but Russia understood him anyway. They both looked around for a while, Ukraine was scanning the crowd for someone. Then Ukraine walked to the kitchen to get some drinks and Russia followed. Ukraine filled two cups with beer and turned to Russia, handing him one. "Get lost, I can't do anything if you're around," he said, drinking the beer immediately.

Russia took the cup, then looked into the crowd. "Are you looking for your faggot crush? Don't worry, I will make sure he doesn't get to you," he said, leaning over to his brother. "His name was Canada, he isn't a faggot, and he is a good person," Ukraine replied. "Now get lost already," he added and turned his face away.

The beer was too bitter for Russia's taste. It was just disgusting. He would prefer vodka. But he needed to stay sober to be able to keep an eye on Ukraine. It was for Ukraine's own good. Being homosexual was not normal or healthy. It was for the sake of his family's name. Russia wanted to give his brother another warning before he left, but before he could say anything, Ukraine disappeared into the crowd. He couldn't even see him anymore, not even with his height.

"Fuck, I lost him." Russia cursed to himself. Russia tried to find his brother, but there were too many people. The music was loud and his ears hurt. He got even more frustrated and annoyed by the second. He wanted to get drunk. He needed to be able to loosen up. If only China would be here right now, they could have a nice drink and have fun. China with her big breasts, soft hair, and her warm, soft hands. Russia imagined it. Kissing her lips, touching her boobs, sliding his hands down to her waist and grabbing her ass, feeling her curves, licking her, her pussy, sucking her clit. He imagined China on top of him, riding him, grinding against him, her breasts bouncing, her body sweating.

Looking into her brown-yellowish eyes, watching them grow wide as she came. Brown-yellowish... Red skin... Short white hair... Broken ankle. Forcing himself into the tight little hole. The weird sensation of being inside of another male's ass, the tightness, the warmth, the noises Poland made. The pain in Poland's ankle, the pleasure Russia got out of it, the lust. His sickly desires.

The memory made Russia harden and his stomach twist. "Fuck," Russia cursed. No way. Russia shook his head, the sudden image of Poland's face had made him flinch. How dare Russia think about Poland like that when he had a girlfriend?! It was an accident, but still. And now he couldn't stop thinking about him. Russia rubbed his temples, then down his face, rubbing his eyes. This was so pathetic. He shouldn't be thinking about a guy, especially not that guy, he thought. He could feel his cheeks grow hot and he turned away to hide his shame.

As he turned around, he couldn't believe his eyes. There he was. Poland. Ukraine was introducing Poland to Hungary. They seemed to immediately get along well. Poland was smiling, and giggling, and Hungary was laughing. Russia had never seen Poland like this, he looked so happy. "What the fuck?" Russia cursed again, this time much louder. Poland turned his face and looked at him in confusion. Russia felt his heart sink. He felt his face growing hotter. Their eyes meet, the tension was growing. Poland's smile was slowly fading. Russia couldn't breathe. He didn't know what to do.