Random little plot bunny spawned at three in the morning...I figure I might as well post it. Be warned of corny fluff near the end. And I apologize for any factual inaccuracies...blame Wikipedia.
Discalimer: If I owned Hetalia, it would not be half as awesome D:
"What are you doing!?!" China's voice is laced with shock and concern, the customary 'aru' dropped in his anxiety. Russia flinches at the cry, but maintains his position: gun pressed to his temple, finger at the trigger. China can't believe what he's seeing.
"Playing," Russia murmurs quietly, his voice as soft and innocent as that of a child, his mouth twitching upwards in a faint smile. China doesn't understand.
"Playing~aru?" the smaller nation repeats, moving closer. "With a gun?" He freezes when Russia's arm stiffens, the finger trembling on the trigger. His heart skips a beat, and for a moment he forgets to breathe.
"Russian roulette," the taller man whispers. The wind tugs sharply at his soft light hair, chilling as ice. China shivers—he's never liked the cold—though he can't help but feel that's not the only reason behind the motion. Russian roulette. He recalls the name. Ivan had told him about it once, a few years back. A game his desperate army officers had played, a suicide attempt disguised as a test of courage. Icy tingles shoot through his entire form.
"Ivan, don't," China is moving towards him now, but the distance is too great.
Amber-brown eyes widen in alarm. He opens his mouth to scream.
Frantically, China scrambles against the other's raised arm, trying to lower the gun, but Russia is determined to hold it in place.
In a last attempt of desperation, China backs up a few paces, before running full speed at Russia and tackling him. Caught off guard, he falls back into the snow, the revolver dropping from his grasp. China lands on top of Russia, splayed out flush against him, but in the terror of the moment, he can't bring himself to care. Immediately, the smaller nation checks for blood, looks for the unwanted signs that will confirm his fears.
But the hair is still its usual white-blond shade, not a trace of crimson marring its hue. A breath of relief escapes through Yao's lips, and he lets his head thud against Russia's chest. "Aiyah…don't scare me like that. You could have died~aru."
"But I didn't," replies Russia, the normal childish cheer back in his voice. Sometimes China wonders if the other is bipolar, he switches so drastically between moods. But all he can think of at the moment is how glad he is the Russian somehow miraculously survived.
"If you hadn't been so lucky…" China begins to reprimand, raising his head to gaze into the other's deep amethyst eyes, but is cut off as Russia closes the last few centimeters between their lips, pressing them gently together. It's short and sweet, little more than a peck on the lips. A child's kiss.
When the younger nation pulls back, the bright smile Yao loves so dearly is planted on his lips. "Ah~ha…but I know I'm lucky, very lucky," Russia chimes, wrapping his arms around the smaller nation and hugging him closer, like an over-sized doll. "After all, I have you, don't I?"