APH and its characters © Hidekaz Himaruya
Pairing: Russia x China
Made with 100% fluff.
GET WELL SOON!
Yao stirred to a loud knock at his front door. He rolled over in bed with much reluctance and rested his palm over his forehead. His fever had gone down a bit but his head was still throbbing with pain. And the knocking was not helping at all. He stayed motionless, soaking in the comfort of his warm sheet – though it was a bit damp from his sweats. He had no intention of seeing anyone today, on account of not wanting to get out of bed and not wanting to spread his cold. He thought if he ignored the knocks, his visitor would eventually go away.
It quieted down for a moment. Yao let his eyes close while he yawned. He was about to roll back into a more comfortable position when the doorbell rang, followed by a series of ferocious knocks. Yao tossed his head to the direction of the door, irritated. Whoever it was at the door was a persistent nuisance.
"Yao~Yao! Answer the door~! I know you're home~!"
That explained everything.
With a sigh, Yao sat up from bed. He stayed seated for a moment to avoid getting light-headed. Ivan banged on the door again and pressed the doorbell like there was no tomorrow. Yao planted his feet on the floor and rubbed his congested nose. He slipped his feet into the warm slippers and stood with a groan; his bones cracked and his muscles ached.
Yao dragged himself out of his room. He answered the door and glared up at the beaming Russian. Yao wanted to wipe that stupid smile off Ivan's face.
"What took you so long?" Ivan whined, immediately pulling Yao into his arms. "Ah~! You're so warm…"
Yao pulled away and kept Ivan at arm's length. Ivan didn't like that; he gripped Yao's hands and yanked the smaller man back into his embrace. He locked his arms around Yao's body, keeping a secure hold.
"Ivan," Yao scowled but he didn't fight. He rested his head tiredly on Ivan's shoulder. "I'm sick."
"Eeeh?" Ivan broke away. He cupped his hands on Yao's face and asked, "How did you get sick!"
"As if I'd know," Yao mumbled. He thought for a moment and said, "It was probably Alfred's fault…" He saw the hint of jealously touched Ivan's eyes and felt Ivan's fingers tensed on his cheeks. He shook his head quickly and explained, "He sneezed on me yesterday."
Ivan softened with a subtle heave. He put his hands down on Yao's shoulders and ushered Yao away from the door, his heel kicking the door close.
"If you're sick, I'll take care of you!" Ivan chirped, sounding like he was excited about it.
"N-no," Yao protested even as he was pushed back into his bedroom. "Go home, Ivan! I don't want you to get sick!"
"Don't worry," Ivan chuckled, "I won't. I won't. I haven't gotten sick in years!"
Yao was, rather forcefully, pushed down on his bed. Ivan pinned him down with one hand while his other hand grabbed the comforter and covered Yao up to his chest. Not that Yao minded; it was good to be back in his bed. Though he had been sleeping for hours now, he was still completely exhausted. He shifted on the bed and adjusted himself so he could get a clear look of Ivan.
Ivan fluffed the comforter and smiled down at him. He leaned forward, and Yao knew what was coming but he couldn't stop it in time. Besides, when Ivan wanted a kiss, Ivan got a kiss. He made sure to keep his lips close so at least he wouldn't spread his germs. And Ivan seemed to understand it as well since he pulled away quicker than usual. He ran his fingers through Yao's tangled hair, brushing stray strands out of Yao's face.
"Hungry?" Ivan asked.
"A little," Yao answered. He hadn't eaten since morning and that was just a bit of warm soy milk.
Ivan nodded. He planted a kiss on Yao's forehead before he stood up straight and walked out of the room. Yao lied still and listened to the sounds of the fridge and cupboards opening. Plates clashed with silverwares. Something hard hit against the counter. Yao sighed and closed his eyes. Sleep took over him quickly. The last thing he heard was Ivan humming a soft Russian tune.
"Yao~Yao," Ivan's voice cooed.
Yao blinked and found Ivan smiling down on him. He rubbed his tired eyes, wondering how long he had slept. He sat up once he saw the bowl of soup sitting on the nightstand. Ivan helped him to put a pillow behind his back before he took a seat on the edge of the bed. Yao gave a weak smile and eyed the bowl. It was clearly Russian borscht. He couldn't help but wonder if borscht was the right comfort soup for a sick person. Then again, it was Ivan…
"Here," Ivan said, picking up the bowl. He scooped up a spoonful and softly blew it on. With a smile, he said, "Say ahhh!"
Yao chose to humor Ivan. He opened his mouth and let Ivan fed him the warm stew. He slurped the soup, as it was still a bit hot, and a sip leaked out his mouth. He reached for the tissue box but Ivan beat him to it. He flushed when Ivan's tongue licked the excess soup off his chin and guided it back to his mouth. Ivan smiled sheepishly and Yao turned his head away. He wiped his mouth with a real tissue. The hot burn in his throat forced him to purse his lips. He gasped for a quick breath of air. The after burn was obvious.
Did Ivan actually put vodka in the borscht?
He glanced up at Ivan, who was bringing the spoon to his mouth again. Ivan really had no idea how to take care of a sick person. Yao shook his head and gently kept the spoon away from him.
"I can't eat this," he said bluntly.
"Why not?" Ivan asked, "Does it taste bad?"
"Uh…," Yao hesitated. He didn't want to hurt Ivan's feeling but there was no way he was going to eat the vodka soup. He shook his head and said, "It's too sour. It hurts my throat."
"Oh," Ivan responded, obviously disappointed. He drilled a hard stare at the borscht, as if it was the soup's fault that it was alcohol in it.
As much as Yao hated to admit, seeing a sad Ivan made him felt bad. He put his hand over Ivan's hand and smiled brightly. Ivan stared at him for a moment before he leaned in to capture his lips again. Once again, Yao had to push the persistent Russian away. And, of course, Ivan fought to keep their faces close. Yao could feel Ivan's breath on his upper lip.
"I can make you something else," Ivan whispered, his lips moving against Yao's.
"Some congee would be nice," Yao mumbled. He darted his eyes to the side.
"What?" Ivan tilted his head with confusion.
"It's easy," Yao said with a grin, lifting a finger up. "Just put the rice in the water and boil it."
Ivan stood up and nodded. He took the borscht with him and left the room. Yao leaned against the pillow and sighed. He closed his eyes again and took the time to rest. But he couldn't sleep, as he was worried about Ivan's creative cooking skill. He rubbed his shoulders to ease the sore muscles. He looked to his door. Suddenly, he wanted to catch a glimpse of Ivan. He looked away quickly once that thought entered his head. His face burnt but Yao dismissed it as his fever acting up. That must be it! There was no reason why he would blush when he thought of Ivan.
Still, he was glad that Ivan had dropped by. He had spent most of his life taking care of others; it was nice to be taken care of for once. And though Ivan hadn't done a very good job so far, Yao was grateful for the Russian's presence. After all, it was lonely to live by himself. But he wasn't lonely when Ivan was around.
He pressed his head against the wall and listened to the sounds coming from the kitchen. Boiling rice in water was an easy task; he was sure Ivan could handle it. He let his eyelids drop. Now and then, he could hear Ivan's soft humming. Ivan only ever hummed one song. Yao didn't know what it was about; only that the melody was gentle and warming, like a mother's love for her child.
Ivan suddenly stopped humming. A low Russian word was hissed and Yao knew he wouldn't be eating congee for dinner either. Within seconds, Ivan appeared at the doorway with an apathetic look. The smell of burnt rice filled Yao's nostrils and he already knew the story.
"Yao~Yao," Ivan whined.
"Aiyah," Yao sighed, "it's fine. I'm not that hungry anyways."
"I can go buy you something to eat," the Russian offered.
"No, I just want to sleep."
Yao put his pillow back down and readied himself for sleep. He glanced at Ivan, silently telling him that it was his time to leave. But instead, Ivan took off his scarf and draped it over the desk. Without warning, he climbed into bed, much to Yao's dismay, and snuggled close in. Yao tried to push him away, but Ivan's weight was too heavy for him to do much. The Russian laughed softly, playfully running his hand through Yao's hair. Yao sighed with a frown. Why was it so hard to resist Ivan? Ivan scooted closer; he put one hand behind Yao's head while the other gently stroke Yao's back.
"Mmm~ Yao is so warm. I like it."
"If you get sick…" Yao warned.
"I won't! I won't!"
Yao rolled over and turned his back on Ivan. Ivan looped his arms around Yao's waist. He leaned in and pressed his lips to Yao's neck. Yao huffed quietly, neither rejecting nor encouraging Ivan's kisses trailing down his neck. He didn't really even mind the hand that was cruising around the hem of his shirt. The only thing on his mind was getting some good rest.
"Your fever will go down if you work up a good sweat," Ivan whispered into Yao's ear. His hand promptly slid down Yao's torso.
"N-n-no!" Yao screeched, slapping the hand. He scooted away, huddled against the wall, and used the comforter as a shield.
"Yao~Yao! Don't be shy~!" Ivan laughed. The comforter did little to stop his advance. He wrapped his arms around Yao again and said, "Let me help you get better~!"
It really didn't look like he would get any rest.
"I told you so," Yao grumbled with his hand charged on his waist. "I told you you would get sick!"
Ivan smiled weakly from the bed. His face was flushed with high fever. He breathed heavily with fatigue. Yao crossed his arms over his chest with a deep and annoyed frown. He had barely gotten over his own cold and now he had to take care of Ivan. And he knew what a difficult patient Ivan could be. Really, what a troublesome guy Ivan was!
"Yao~Yao," Ivan said quietly, "Come into bed with me."
Yao gritted his teeth. It was a low blow for Ivan to use pity. But he complied only because he felt it was partially his fault. He lifted up the sheets and slid under them. He rolled over to face Ivan. It was strange – almost frightening – to know that even Ivan could be weak and vulnerable. Yet, the smile on his face didn't fade even when he was bed-ridden. Yao pressed his cheek against Ivan's warm hand and somehow that made him smile. Ivan scooted closer; he placed his hand on the small of Yao's back. They touched foreheads. Yao could feel Ivan's body heat radiating into his own body. Ivan caressed his cheek. Amethyst eyes stared at him.
"You're the best medicine," Ivan whispered, "you are all I need."
"S-stop saying stupid things and go to sleep," Yao responded with a shy pout.
The pout disappeared when their lips met.
Boyue's Note: More Russia/China fluff please! Lame title is lame! Remind me not to write at 3 in the morning. T___T;;