another presentation by dreamsofdestiny!
...As any nation will tell you, close relations are good relations - and good relations are beneficial to thriving economics and throbbing - wait what?
Poly-amorousness knows no bounds as half the world (actually less) fantasizes about being with Yao. Unrepentantly plotless, and with enough unresolved sexual tension in the air to cut with a knife.
pairings: (in-order) Russia/China, Japan/China, Korea/China, England/China, US/China, HongKong/China/Taiwan, Prussia/China/Germany, All-Previously-Mentioned-Nations/China~
notes: literally, a pairing per chapter, a chapter per day, and seven chapters (edit: eight) total (this'll be done in a week - come hell or high water!). also! continuous storyline.
x x x Close Relations x x x
[the rabid next-door neighbor]
"Yao~" Ivan called, knocking (nicely!) on the door of the Chinese UN representative's room. The handle was well-made, having withstood his various Mission Impossibles (1, 2, and 3) - appropriately named, namely because cracking the damn combination and keyholder signature was proving to be impossible. The door swung open, revealing a... marginally displeased representative.
"What." It was a statement, not a question, and the courtship would be cut short if the doorknob had anything to say about it.
"I was thinking," Ivan started, putting on his self-proclaimed 'cheerful' face, "Since there's no meeting today for the United Nations, and the weather is so wonderfully warm, maybe we could go for a stroll today?" He laughed, taking note of Yao's less-than-enthusiastic facial expression, "The sun is shining and the birds are chirping, as they say in America, da?"
"Ivan," Yao groaned - the only problem was that it was a groan of agony, not of pleasure, "The reason why there's no meeting for the UN today, aru, is because you and Alfred accidentally set fire to the whole west wing! And it's -5 degrees outside, that's actually the moon not the sun, and any birds that are chirping would have to be defrosted first!" He put his hands to his hips - an overly sexy position, Ivan would note, except Yao was busy thinking about another reason why not to go out. With Ivan. "And!" the sleep-deprived nation added, "It's four AM in the morning - jetlag or not!"
"Setting fire to the west wing was all Alfred's fault!" Ivan protested.
"I seem to recall you running around with a flamethrower - Gilbert's flamethrower, might I add - and dousing everything in sight with oil, aru," Yao grumbled, massaging his eyelids and wishing for another blessed half-an-hour of sleep.
"...It was mostly Alfred's fault," Ivan corrected, "But why are you so mad about it anyways, YaoYao?" he grinned, motioning the other to step outside (in the absolutely not-freezing weather!), "The flames never reached this side of the building, da?"
"I was at the meeting," Yao flatly replied, "My hair was singed."
"Poor YaoYao!" Ivan simpered, raising a gloved hand - only to snicker behind it, "I can make it up to you, though! We can go to a nearby café, and you can have everything you'd like! I'll be paying, you see?"
"It's still four in the morning," Yao replied - though Ivan could see the other's penchant for free food was beginning to kick in (he thanked the cheapskate blood that ran through Yao's veins). "Are any restaurants or shops even open-aru?"
"I'm sure they'll be... more than willing..." Ivan replied with another winsome smile, pulling out a pipe from his pipe-storage pocket. "At the fifth street café, there is a Sanrio store right next to it," he 'carelessly' tossed out. He could literally see Yao's eyes lighting up - all thoughts of going back to sleep forgotten.
"Give me five minutes to get dressed," Yao said, combing a hand through his (still in a godforsaken ponytail!) hair.
"Let me help you~" Ivan offered - in a friendly manner, with only the best and most innocent intentions at heart. Plus, the idea of Yao, squirming and writhing in his grasp, with only a jacket on was pretty damn -
Yao promptly slammed the door in his face.
"I'll meet you in the waiting room!" Ivan called through the terrible steel door (the only thing, excluding the handle, combination, and keyholder signature, that stood between him and a writhing, sweating, half-dressed Yao). Naturally, Yao didn't respond, but Ivan could hardly care less - after all, it wasn't everyday he managed to snatch a meeting-come-date with Yao! Hurriedly, he grabbed a scarf and his wallet - he had promised to pay, after all - reaching for the telephone to dial a couple numbers (namely the Sanrio store and the Fifth Street Café).
Two minutes, three name-drops, and one somewhat-veiled threat later, and both store owners were more-than-willing to open their stores a couple hours earlier than their 'normal' hours. Ivan smiled, humming a wayward Russian tune to himself, before grabbing a bottle of petroleum jelly (the one that he had brought all the way from Alaska), figuring 'anything is possible'.
Although - thinking it through some more - doing the deed in a Hello Kitty store seemed... somewhat inappropriate.
Shrugging such thoughts off, Ivan cheerily made his way to the waiting room where, much to his delight, Yao was already waiting for him!
"You're early," he remarked, hoping that his surprise - and absolute delight - didn't show as much as his voice made it sound. Yao rolled his eyes, although a smile could be made out from the curve of his face, before walking towards the front door of the UN building.
"Let's use the back door!" Ivan suggested. "To avoid the reporters that may be swarming the front, da?" he elaborated in reaction to Yao's quizzical glance. "Besides, the back door is closer to fifth street than the front door."
"Alright," Yao acquiesced, seeing noting to argue really. The two of them made their to the back of the building, stepping through the not-smoking-anymore cinders of the meeting room - where Yao shot an accusing glance at Ivan, only to be rebuffed with a hearty laugh and equally-heavy pat on the back. Outside of the remains of the meeting room, there wasn't much to see in the UN building.
"Francis! Come back here with my briefs this instant!"
Nothing to see indeed.
"Let's hold hands~!" Ivan declared, sticking out his gloved right hand.
Yao flushed, drawing back and away - darn! there went the purpose of the petroleum jelly! - stuttering out, "N-No, aru! I don't have any gloves, and it's too cold, an-and we're too old to be acting like children, especially this early in the morning, aru!" But of course, the flush on his face was only absolutely adorable, and Ivan cheerily ignored Yao's complaints, reaching forth his hand to link along with Yao's noticeably-smaller one.
"See? It's not too cold!" Ivan commented as they made their way out the back entrance.
"Hmph..." Yao grumbled. And then sighed, shaking his head, "I'm sorry Ivan, I'm normally not this grumpy," he laughed, "I think it's because of the jetlag and the weather."
"Worry not," Ivan replied, smiling as the two of them neared the café, "Jetlag makes a good appetite, and the appetite comes before eating!" And with that, the light from the Fifth Street Café - one of the only two lights on the street, really - shone through, and Ivan smiled, because he really did like the manager of the café and the manager did own such a lovely car.
"Ivan..." Yao started in a suspicious tone, "Why is it that only the café and the Sanrio store are open?"
"Ah, well," To lie a lot or to lie a little was the big question here, "Perhaps the stores are just opening early today? Trying to get all the customers they can, da?"
"...Right," Yao hesitantly confirmed. He shrugged a bit before smiling, turning to Ivan, squeezing the hand that was wrapped securely around his own, and whispering, "Thank you."
"Anything for you!" Ivan laughed; even as his heart was beating and stomach performed somersaults. Plural.
The waitress that greeted them looked a bit bedraggled - dragged out of her apartment at four AM by a desperate manager, actually. Ivan smiled something that could have been apologetic to the non-sleep-deprived eye, making sure to remember to leave a large tip.
"Wow!" Yao exclaimed, eyes glancing through the pages of the menu, "This café really does have a lot of selection, aru!" His eyes glanced over the lovely pictures and descriptions and titles, and then completely skipped the ludicrous prices (Ivan was paying, after all), "How many items am I allowed to order, Ivan?" It might have been the somewhat rosiness of his cheeks, or the way his eyes lit up, or maybe it was the fact that Yao was still willingly! holding onto his hand, despite the fact they had reached the restaurant already. Whatever the cause, Ivan had only one pre-programmed response.
"As much as you're able to eat, da?"
"Haha!" Yao laughed, amused, "That's very nice of you, Ivan. But really, an actual number would be helpful, aru."
"Alright," Ivan replied, thinking of a number that was not entirely insane (and yet still unreachable), "Fourty."
"S-Sir, that's our entire menu," the waitress cut in.
"Yay!" Yao cheered - and how could Ivan retract his words when Yao was looking so sweetly fuckable? - "Then I'll have one of everything on the menu, please! And with a chocolate milkshake too?" He looked expectantly at Ivan.
"Of course," Ivan said. And then the waitress turned to him, asking what he would like, and the gears began spinning in his head. YaoYao had implied that he had quite the appetite, right? A chance to actually use the already-opened petroleum jelly. "Double his order," he said cheerily to the waitress before turning to Yao, "I'll be eating everything that you're eating!"
"If you can," Yao pointed out, as the waitress hurried to the back to prepare their monstrous orders.
"Yao!" Ivan jokingly admonished, "When you speak like this, I think that you think that you have a bigger stomach than I do, da?" Yao laughed, neither affirming nor denying, "Well then," Ivan started with a smile, "Why don't we place a tiny little wager on this?"
"Who can eat more, aru?" Yao asked - ever so ready for a 'fun' gamble.
"Well, if both of us can finish the same meal, there can be no contest," Ivan pointed out, "So I propose... an eating competition where we... race, is that the word?" He continued with, "But it's no fun if there's nothing to win, da? So I also propose some... stakes... to be defined, to reward the winner, you see?" The dent in the wallet resulting from this endeavor was feeling smaller already!
"Alright," Yao agreed, "That sounds like fun! What are we wagering?"
"If I win," Ivan started, cheerful smile in-place, "I want to fuck you - in this café - now." There; he said it, it was out in the open.
Yao, of course, was expected to flush deeply, and then Ivan would retract his 'wager' and place a more 'truthful' one on the table. That was what Ivan had thought, at least. Except Yao simply raised an eyebrow, before smiling - in a devilishly sexy manner, of course.
"And I win, aru," Yao started, smile still in place, "Then you'll buy me the entire Sanrio store that's right next door?"
"Deal," Ivan declared, as the two of them shook hands. Right on cue, the waitress appeared with their plates-on-plates of food. Cakes and custards, namely. Yao's eyes were sparkling, but not as much as Ivan - if it was an eating competition, he would surely win. The fact that they had stopped holding hands in order to properly grasp knife and fork, in preparation of some serious eating of course, failed to come to his attention. The petroleum jelly! The café! The timing!
"Ready?" Yao asked, raising a fork over his miniature Genevian Egg (raspberry filling).
"Go," Ivan declared, shoving the first slice of cake down his throat.
The waitress stared in something like abject horror - mixed with hints of disbelief and chants of 'I'm still dreaming, I'm still dreaming,' of course - as the two men who just up-and-ready came into the café, then demanded the whole menu, stuffed cake after pie after custard after éclair down their mouth. One was clearly enjoying the 'meal,' while the other seemed to be under the impression that inhaling food was the proper way to eat. Fourty chocolate-drizzled, strawberry-topped, and caramel-flavored servings later, Ivan downed the last of his chocolate milkshake, wondering which place was the kinkiest to start (bar, counter, table? definitely table).
"Finally!" Yao grumbled, setting down his fork, as Ivan 'set down' his jaw.
And by set down - 'dropped'.
Because - there! in front of him! - was Yao, who was looking perfect alright, after having, apparently, eaten fourty plates of sweets-on-sweets-on-sweets, and... and... and!
"You..." Ivan croaked out, the massive intake of sugar finally settling around his throat, pointing at Yao with such fervor and disbelief that he made the waitress look bored, "How did you... How did you manage to finish... finish before me...?"
"Well," Yao sighed, smiling sweetly, "Let's just say I'm a pretty fast eater, aru?" And then he grinned, pointing outside, "And look, the sun's almost completely out! And don't you owe me an entire store of Sanrio now?" Ivan stared straight ahead for a couple seconds, before blinking himself out of his horror-stricken reverie and placing a couple hundred-dollar bills on the table, mumbling something along the lines of 'keep the tip' and mumbling 'jelly... jelly...!' Yao laughed, tugging the other up. "I was pretty unhappy about my hair being singed yesterday, so thank you for cheering me up, Ivan~" he murmured, dragging the shell-shocked nation out of the café - towards the Sanrio store, of course.
And then - right before leaving the café completely - Yao turned back and winked at the waitress.