miikka-xx: listening to an awesome band gives you a gazillion, billion inspirations. and plot bunnies. but the plot bunnies die after certain amounts of ignoring. no, the title is not from the Linkin Park song, even if I do love them too much.
Title: Breaking the Habit
Summary: In which the only constant thing is Russia wanting to conquer China. Russia/China.
Character(s): Russia, China, General Winter, Princess Spring (WHO IS AN OC)
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. If I did, however, Germany wouldn't have a shirt.
Warning: OOCness. First Hetalia. I tried.
Oh, why, why can't you see, that you're gonna drown in me?
The most peaceful sight to China is seeing white snowflakes slowly drift to the ground on a cool, semi-clouded night. Just cold enough to light the fire-pits but not enough to bring out blankets.
During these nights, rare and calming, Russia will drift through his hallways to escape. China will only leave the room for a few minutes to put up boiling water for tea and return to find the other country warming his feet in front of the crackling fire.
Wordlessly, China will return to his kitchen and add some more water to his tea and this routine repeats until China doesn't need to leave his kitchen anymore on these nights to know that Russia will be sitting there, a pleased smile on his face.
China hates battling and war. He is disgusted by the smell of gunpowder drifting through the air and red splatters on the ground. This always happens near his border, these bloody battles and echoing screams of death still hanging in the dirty air.
Russia is consistent though, coming to visit with a feral grin and blood littering his clothes after these fights. He always challenges China with a glint in his eye; relent to me, he says, come with me, live with me.
China relentlessly spars with him until he is passed out on the floor. Russia is then taken to a bed and when he sleeps, China watches. He frowns because, more than he hates war, he hates the pained expression drawn over the other country's face.
"We're very similar, China," he says one day, sipping his tea.
China shifts in his seat, ripping his gaze from the scene of snow outside to look at Russia.
"You think-aru?" he asks softly, not wanting to break the content atmosphere that has settled in the warm room.
"Yes," replies Russia, nodding his head, "we only want best for our countries and spread that around." China instinctively knows that 'spread' means 'conquer' but doesn't comment, merely sipping his tea in acknowledgement. Finally, Russia whispers:
"Is that why you won't come to me?"
China watches the snow lazily gliding down and resting on top of its brethren.
"I want more than just Russian rule, Russia-aru," he says, "you must know that-aru." Russia does not acknowledge that he does and says:
"I'll give you freedom."
China smiles mirthlessly at the window.
"You do not know then-aru."
After Russia wakes up from a nightmare-plagued sleep in the resting quarters of China, he watches the other country lying beside him, curled up and eyes closed.
His limbs ache from battle and his clothes stick from sweat. Beside him, on a chair, lies his blood-stained clothes and he glances at the loose cotton clothes someone had dressed him in. He entertains the thought of China undressing him and something warms in him.
He rather likes the thought of China caring for him, like a concerned lover. It is then that China's eyes flutter open and watch Russia's face in drowsy wonder.
"Russia-aru?" he asks, voice slurred from sleep. Russia reaches over and presses his lips against the other country's forehead. This has the desired effect. China's face goes pink but he snuggles into the blanket even more, satisfied that Russia was ok, even if this method of telling him was rather different from the previous ones.
"Do you want love?" Russia suddenly asks quietly, "Freedom and love?" China's eyes watch him, half-lidded and not clear at all.
"That would be nice-aru," he smiles, closing his eyes.
Before Princess Spring has a chance to grace Chinese lands, General Winter unclenches his fist and moves away, leaving one more bout of snowflakes on those half-clear nights China cherishes so much. Russia is there, as usual, tea cup in hand and contemplating things to say.
He reaches over and presses his shoulder against China's. China is not startled, he had watched the other country through the reflection of the window, and leans gently against him. Together, they watch the snow fall through the window and drink hot tea.
"I feel peaceful," remarks Russia with a smile, disguising his surprise on his face though it leaked into his voice. China bites the inside of his cheek in order not to laugh.
"You've never felt that before, Russia-aru?"
Russia turns his head and watches China, who looks back, amused. It was then that Russia leans over and claims China's lips. It is short and sweet, just a peck, but enough to leave China's face flushed a bright pink.
"I can only feel this here, with you," Russia tells him.
At the end of these visits, Russia customarily asks China to join him, in which the other country would always refuse. They do not think of their words anymore, merely letting them slip past their lips as a sort of formal goodbye, more or less.
Suddenly, Russia doesn't say anything, turning to leave and effectively breaking the habit. This startles China so much tht he grabs the other's arm, pulling him back abruptly.
"Y-You," fumbles China once he realizes the embarassing position he's put himself in in, "You, er, I-I'm sorry-aru. I was just a bit surprised-aru."
Russia's face, however, is serious when he speaks.
"You will accept Russian rule if I give you freedom and love, right?"
China's face goes red, to which Russia laughs, a bright smile appearing on his lips.
"Don't worry, I love you too much to take away this," he gestures to everything around them, from the snow-laden buildings to the many rolling hills and mountains and forests that make up China.
Chins is happy, so much so, that he leans over and gives a kiss of his own to Russia, who responds almost immediately, wrapping his arms around him and delving into the other's mouth.
They part in huffs and pants, sweat being cooled down by the cool night.
"Then, China, do you love me?"
The snow kept falling.
AN: Yes, I DIED at the end. I hate the ending. HATEHATEHATE. I think I'll rewrite it when my muse COMES THE HELL BACK. COME BAAAAACK.
on the other hand, reviews are loved.