[One way or another, in these situations, he finds ways to warm Ivan's skin. Some times take longer than others but he can do it, he knows he can, and there's always a sense of achievement when he does. It's an awkward manoeuvre for him to pull Ivan's pants off, but once he has, he's free to look at him, and look at him he does, fey-green eyes darkened with want and need.

The kiss is returned eagerly, heated as he pushes the fingers of one hand into the Russian nation's hair and grips it, his other hand trailing down his chest, lingering over his heart, skimming between his hips before he finally touches the man's length, curling his fingers around it]