"Aniki," Korea whispers.

It's like a science experiment—just how many decibels of sound can one withstand before waking up? China is still obviously still fast asleep, because he's making that weird sleep noise, somewhere between a snore and a deep, peaceful breath.

"Annnniki," Korea whispers, a little louder. He prods China's side.

China's brow furrows, obviously having felt it, but he must be thinking it's all part of a dream of his because he doesn't open his eyes.

So Korea pokes again.

China's expression does not change this time, though he does make a sound like "mmpf," and rolls onto his other side, facing away from Korea, and begins to make his snuffling noise again.

Korea worms closer, smiling now, pressing himself along China's curved back and touching his lips to the exposed nape of his neck. China has a gorgeous neck—it's pale and delicate looking, surprisingly slender and long. Korea thinks that he will add China's neck to his mental list of his most favorite things about China.

Korea ghosts his lips along China's skin, feeling short, charcoal colored hairs tickling his mouth and willing himself not to laugh as China shifts at the irritation. He begins to kiss, very softly, trailing his lips down to China's shoulders and then up again, slowly increasing the pressure. His tongue slides over his flesh, leaving a sticky trail, and he gives his skin a gentle pull with his lips.

Just when Korea begins to wonder if he just can't be bothered to give him any sort of reaction, China's hand snakes up and starts swatting at him.

"Mn. St'pit."

"What?" Korea asks, voice broken by a cackle. "Did you just say spit?"

"Stop-pit," China grumbles. "M'neck's all slobb'ry…"

"Don't know how that could have happened," Korea tells him, grinning at the way China's skin is now glistening slightly.

"Brat," says China. He gives an enormous sigh before flopping over onto his back and stretching lazily, reaching out with his arms and curling his toes beneath the blankets. "Why'd you wake me up?"

"I just wanted to," Korea says, grinning, and China rolls his eyes. He then rubs at the back of his neck and gives his hand a blearily disgusted look when he pulls it away.

"K'rea, time's it?"

"It's…" Korea squints into the corner. "Half past seven."

"Half past seven?" China repeats with a groan. He presses the heel of his palm against his eye to rub away the sleep and says, indignantly, "it's Sunday, lemme sleep—"

"Don't want to," Korea replies, and leans over him to kiss him. China makes a faint, startled noise, but then he begins to kiss back, a little grudgingly at first, but then warmly and while making sighing noises. Korea likes morning kisses, even though they're always groggy and slow and taste stale. They also, more often than not, have too much saliva involved, but Korea likes to see this as a positive thing.

"Ugh, I can't take any more of your dog breath," China says three minutes later, thumping Korea on the shoulder. "Did you just wake up?"


"Well, lemme me sleep some more, okay?" China says, muzzily. "Few more hours."

"Oh-kay," Korea says, admitting defeat. He nuzzles in closer to China's side and China lets a hand drift along Korea's side before draping his arm around his waist.

"Oh, and I forgot." China closes his eyes. "Good morning, Korea."

"Good morning, Aniki," Korea laughs.

China gives him a small smile, his eyes still closed. He gives one last contented sigh before stilling once more and is asleep again within a minute.

Theoretically speaking, Korea knows that there are more intimate things to be shared between two people than to watch the other sleep. But for today, on this lazy Sunday morning, there is nothing he would rather be doing.