by me
Rating: R
Pairing: Dany Heatley/Ilya Kovalchuk
Disclaimer: So fake. So not mine.
Summary: More Russian language lessons. These don't get very far,
though.
Notes: There is a Vodka Effect, also known as the Rule of Reverse
Assimilation. We do pronounce it incorrectly. Also, the reason I
wrote this is because Fake!Ilya and Fake!Dany are drowned in angst.
So my muses took offense and decided to be cute and horny. Just
remember that this is a completely different universe than Fake!
LJBoys.
"So it's time to learn more Russian?"
"Da," Ilya said with a smile. "Today we talk about softening of
words and pronunciation."
"Um. Ok."
"First. Myekiznack."
"What?"
"Is soft sign."
"Oh, oh, that little b-thing."
"Yes. It causes you to soften sound before it by pal...pal..."
"Palatization?"
"Da, palatization."
"How do you do that?"
"Um. Say word 'ill'."
"Ill."
"Where is you tongue at end of word."
"Behind my teeth."
"Yes, so say it again and press your tongue against the roof of your
mouth.""
"Eel."
"That's better. And it is palatization. It is important part of
Russian pronunciation."
"Ok. Do I get a reward?"
"You can have a kiss."
"I'll certainly take that."
Smiling, Ilya leaned over and kissed him, letting Dany's tongue
explore his mouth, until, apparently, Dany was satisfied and sat
back. "Ready for next lesson?"
"Bring it on."
Ilya got up and left the room, returning with a bottle of vodka and
two shot glasses. "Say 'stolichnaya'."
"Stolichnaya. I don't even like vodka."
"That is mistake number 1." He poured about half a shot of the
clear liquid and handed it to Dany. "Drink."
"What? Stolichnaya!"
"You say vaad-ka," Ilya said, dragging the word out in an
exaggerated english pronunciation. "Is votka." This time, the word
was crisp and sharp and distinctly Russian. "Now drink."
Making a face, Dany did as commanded. He shuddered as he set the
glass down. "It tastes like rubbing alcohol."
"But very good rubbing alcohol."
"Ok, so tell me what the point of the vodka is."
Ilya poured again. "Votka."
Dany drank and rolled his eyes. "Votka."
"Karasho. Point is there is Russian pronunciation rule called the
votka effect."
"Ok..."
"If you have two cons..."
"Consonants, and you so have to drink for that one."
Grinning, Ilya poured himself a full shot and downed it
effortlessly. "I can drink two times as much as you anyway. Now.
Do you remember list of hard and soft pairs I told you?"
"Uh...B and something...V and F...D and T...I don't remember the
rest."
"Doing it in English letters means one shot. Forgetting half of it
is another."
Ilya poured one and drank from the bottle with Dany before giving
him the second one. "I am going to get really drunk really fast at
this rate."
"That is the point. So I can take advantage of you," Ilya smirked.
"Ha, ha, you're so fucking funny."
"Ya znayo," Ilya replied with a grin.
"You know, this game is not fair. Because the drunker I get, the
more mistakes I make."
Ilya put on a completely innocent expression. "What?"
"You so don't fool me."
"Say the alphabet."
Dany sighed. "Ah...Beh...Veh...Cee."
"Wrong. Drink."
Dany gave up the shot glass and took two swigs from the bottle. "I
can't do this much longer. You're not drunk at all, are you?"
"Uh, no," Ilya grinned.
"Drink more then."
"You."
"We have camp tomorrow and I am drunk anyway."
"I know," Ilya said, still grinning at him. He was snuggled up
against Ilya now, his hand gripping the Russian's thigh. Dany got
really affectionate and cute when he was drunk. "Do you know how I
know?"
Dany shook his head, blinking unfocused eyes.
"Because I know how much you've had and I know how much you can
handle."
"You should have more," he said with a decisive nod.
Ilya drank a good amount from the bottle, then shifted a little and
caught Dany's lips with his own. Dany deepened the kiss
immediately, lapping the traces of alcohol from Ilya's
mouth. "Happy?"
"Yes," Dany said, nibbling Ilya's neck. "We should go to bed."
"Why?" Ilya asked, innocent again.
"Because I want to have sex."
"Oh, really," the Russian giggled. Dany was almost on top of him
now.
"Yes." He stopped what he was doing abruptly and slid to the edge
of the couch.
"What are you doing?"
"You are still not drunk." He concentrated very hard and managed to
pour a full shot glass, even while spilling a good amount on his lap
and hand.
Ilya again threw back the alcohol effortlessly. Then he took Dany's
hand in his and carefully licked it clean. He looked up at Dany and
found his lover's eyes shut, his lips slightly parted.
The alcohol was finally taking effect and Ilya felt a surge of
desire as he watched Dany's pink tongue trace over his
lips. "Ilya..." he whined, as the Russian's warm mouth left his
fingers.
He quit whining as Ilya pressed him back against the couch with the
force of his kiss. Now he slid his hands up Ilya's back, pressing
them fully against one another. Ilya bit not-so-gently into Dany's
lower lip, and he moaned.
"I love you, I love you, I love you," Dany whimpered as Ilya gently
sucked on his lip, soothing it, tasting the small amount of blood he
had drawn.
"Love you, too," Kovy murmured, pausing for a second to breath in
Dany's scent, to enjoy being pressed up against him, to feel his
linemate's arousal.
Dany squirmed beneath him. "I want you to fuck me," he announced.
"Do you?" Ilya asked, trailing a finger down Dany's cheek.
Heatley bit his lip and nodded, "Yesss." He squirmed again, and
Ilya smiled. SO adorable when drunk.
"Ok, but we have to get up. And more."
"No we don't," Dany groaned.
"Yes we do." Ilya sighed, pushing himself to his feet and swaying a
little. He was drunker than he thought. He glanced at the bottle
and gauged two shots to be left. Shrugging, he chugged it down and
pulled Dany to his feet as well.
Leaning heavily on each other and shedding clothing the whole way,
they made it into the bedroom.
*
*
*
*
Ilya woke up, cautiously opening his eyes. No piercing pain. He
smiled. His streak of morning without a hangover was at 19 years
and counting. Dany was still asleep, cuddled against him, and the
Russian had a feeling he wouldn't be so lucky.
He slid out of bed and stretched, seeing no reason to not wander
into the kitchen naked. He dug out some aspirin and orange juice
and headed back to the bedroom. He bent and kissed Dany's
temple. "Time to get up."
Dany groaned and rolled over, covering his eyes. "Fuuuuuuck."
"Good morning to you, too."
"Do you have medication?"
Ilya held out the glass and pills, and Dany swallowed the aspirin
and drank half the juice. "Better?"
Dany fell back against the pillows and groaned again. "I cannot
believe you made me drink that much." He paused. "You are
suffering no ill effects, are you?"
Ilya shook his head. "I do not get hangovers, I think."
"You so suck." He opened his eyes again and blinked at Ilya like he
hadn't seen him yet that morning. "You don't have any clothes on."
The Russian rolled his eyes. "Oh, thank you, Dany."
Dany looked him up and down. "Definitely a good look for you." He
wrapped an arm around Ilya's waist and pulled him closer, placing a
kiss just below his bellybutton.
Ilya ruffled the soft curls tickling his stomach. "You have to get
up now, Dan. So we can go to training camp."
Dany sighed. "Ok. Ok. I'm getting up. You shower first."
"Ok," Ilya said, bending to kiss Dany on the lips, gently, because
his bottom lip was still a little swollen. "You will be ok?"
"Yeah, yeah, hurry, we're going to be late."
"First...did you learn from last night?"
Dany smiled. "Votka."
With a grin, Ilya went into the bathroom.