At least I'm consistently updating late. ((NOT)) Do you have any idea how hard it is to write when FanFiction is just like "Oh why hello there. Why don't you read me? Hm? Read. Now." So it's pretty difficult to type. And also the next two chapters are going to be rather short (yet funny) but that means they'll get posted sooner! Hurrah! SLIGHT SPOILER:And after those chapters prepare for angst of epic proportions *evil smile* **Also, the italics are now showing other people on the phone. You'll see what I mean later. And I'd be lying if I didn't type Iggy's words in an accent in my head…
Fluffy was quite the early riser. Of course, if he was up then someone else had to be awake with him. Such was the thinking of cats. Yet being the respectful Russian cat he was raised to be, Fluffy didn't jump on his master's head and make a fuss as there was company. He was raised to be a polite Russian kitty. Instead, Fluffy chose to wake people up by stepping around their feet. Kumajiro was the first to wake with a deadly looking yawn. Effectively distracted by the awakening of his friend, Fluffy brightened and quickly jumped off the bed followed by the polar bear.
Russia's chin was perched on the top of Canada's head. His eyes creaked open and he gave a contented sigh, clutching the warm body closer and burying his nose into maple syrup scented curls- wait. What the hell?!
Doing his best not to simply jump up and grab his pipe, he decided to use his senses.
He only heard soft snoring, if it could be called that. It was a quiet purr on the exhales and it was muffled.
He could feel even breath ghosting across his collarbones, warmth pressed against his chest, curled up comfortably, and something that felt suspiciously like a leg hooked around his hip.
It smelled of maple syrup and with an undertone of soap.
His mouth tasted of his favorite toothpaste brand (no surprises there, thank heavens).
Only one more left, and Ivan already had a pretty good idea of what, or more accurately whom, he was cuddled up with.
Ivan opened his eyes to soft, shiny, silky golden hair. Angling his head slightly so he could look down, his previous suspicions were confirmed. He had an armful of Canadian, and he had no idea how it happened. As if he cared. Canada had probably just gotten tired of the couch. The quiet nation was too polite to kick him out of the bed, therefore putting them in their current situation.
Ivan didn't care how it happened, all that mattered was that he had Matthew in his arms (conscious or not) and he was going to savor every second of stolen time.
He admired the perfect way his hand fit in the small of Canada's back. He adored the way Matthew curled up as close as he could to his chest. He treasured the soft feel of the ivory skin, and the silk of his hair. As curious, gentle violet eyes trailed their way down a perfect Canadian body, Ivan was quick to notice the stripe of skin exposed by Matvey's shirt riding up. Half of the Canadian flag wrapped around Matvey's hip was peeking out at him.
He really did try not to think of anything. He tried not to think of just how badly he wanted to see the other half of that maple leaf. He tried to look away, he really did. But that was Canada, and the Siberian nation was rendered powerless.
The only thing that got his gaze off of that mark was Matthew shifting slightly in his sleep, moving his head slightly so that his lips were incidentally pressed against the hollow of the Russian's throat. Ivan could feel warm, even breaths floating across his skin and he shivered.
Why couldn't it be this easy? He asked himself, ghosting his lips over Matthew's forehead. After a second's pause over that question, he realized there really wasn't a reason. Why the hell SHOULDN'T he? All the fear over what Matthew thought, the thought of rejection... he'd never know if he didn't. And nearly anything was better than this uncertainty. He should just tell Matthew.
With his mind made up, Russia gently untangled himself from the young nation. He was careful not to wake the boy and stood up, yawning and stretching. A few of his bones popped when he stretched but that was to be expected. It was cold in the hotel room; the power was out still, so he put his scarf back on. He turned around, took a deep breath, and was about to wake Matvey up when both of their phones went off on the bedside table. Russia almost had a heart attack.
Matthew, who had been previously sleeping soundly, heard his phone and rolled over with a groan. After putting on his glasses he checked his phone, scrunching up his nose as he did so.
Ivan wondered if he was being this cute on purpose.
After his sleepy lavender eyes scanned the note, he smiled, speaking with the tone of a child with a snow day, "The meeting was cancelled!" The end of the sentence was punctuated by a yawn. With the news he didn't have to move all day he burrowed back under the covers, just his head peeking out to blink at Ivan. "Aren't you cold? It's freezing! I bet the power's out," he spoke, half to himself. Then he focused his eyes back on the Russian, catching his violet eyes. "Come on, you were warm," Matthew whined like Alfred, yet not half as annoyingly. It was more of in a cute way. Russia turned a light pink across his cheeks, trying (and failing) to hide his embarrassment behind a cough.
Canada had no clue where his bravery came from, but he wasn't regretting anything. When he saw Russia blushing he just grinned to himself. Wouldn't France be proud now! Well probably not, but still. At least it wasn't him blushing this time. He watched as Ivan controlled himself, lowering his arm and coughing slightly. Even though he was still a bit pink in the face, he met the other's gaze. He looked like he was nervous, but determined. Just as he opened his mouth to tell Matthew just how he thought about him, Canada's phone rang.
The device was still in his hands, playing Beethoven's Fifth quite angrily from the palm of his hand. He gave Russia an apologetic look as he clicked the green answer button. "Hello? England?" Ah, hello lad. It's been forever since we had a chat! Deciding not to point out this was because the self-proclaimed gentleman forgot his existence most of the time unless it was beneficial to him, he just sighed, mumbling into the phone "Yes, it has hasn't it." Well, I was thinking I could come and visit you then lad, maybe bring some scones over… "NO!" Matthew yelled quickly into the phone, making Russia raise his eyebrow at the sharp exclamation. Canada fumbled for a good excuse for damage control. "I was, um, already making pancakes. So you don't have to bring scones" Russia's eyes widened comically and he nodded his head vigorously. "So um, when is it you wanted to come over?" Oh well, now is fine. Canada put his head in his hands. Stupid freaking morning people, intruding on his time with Ivan…
"Um, o-oui, sure just let me get dressed really quick… I'll text you when you should come over." You mean you aren't already dressed yet? But I thought you were making pancake-
Times like these, smart people hang up. Matthew was a very smart person.
After throwing his phone on his pillow (which he hadn't used, as Ivan's arm is much more comfortable) he stood and stretched like a cat. Then he blinked lavender eyes owlishly at Ivan. When he spoke, he sounded apologetic, "England is coming over soon. I-I'm sorry if that bothers you or anything, I can always go and-" Ivan shook his head, shrugging, "Nyet, it is fine," he assured the younger. The Russian could see his eyes easier without the slight reflection of his glasses. "You look different without your glasses, Matvey," He said in a rather soft voice. It was almost a shy tone of voice, questioning.
Matthew just wanted to tackle the tall man, preferably before he died of cuteness.
"I hope it's a good different," He asked lightly, his smile easily heard in his words. Russia smiled back, the smile Matthew liked. The real one where his eyes squinted slightly and he looked happy. "Da," was the simple answer he received. After a cough Russia was about to continue on when there was a knock on the door and he quickly shut his mouth, looking half relieved and half annoyed. What was that all about? He walked over barefoot to the door. He was in polar-bear print pj bottoms, an old hockey shirt from somewhere, and he was sure his hair was an absolute mess. But hey, England had helped raise him, he'd seen worse.
Not bothering to ask who it was he flung open the door and yawned hello at England. Arthur nodded and walked into the room, pulling his navy colored pea coat tighter around him. At least someone was dressed smartly for the weather.
Russia had disappeared into the kitchen, busying himself with feeding Fluffy and Kumajiro.
Canada turned around after closing the door. "So Arthur," Canada began before the British man interrupted him, leaning in close and whispering, "Has he been treating you alright lad?" Matthew was surprised to see actual concern under thick eyebrows. He almost sounded like his old self, when Matthew called him Dad. Shaking that thought away Canada sighed. "Yes, Arthur, I'm fine. Yesterday was a big misunderstanding. Nothing actually happened between us," He explained, sounding like he was trying to reason with the former empire. England's eyes narrowed, his caterpillar eyebrows coming together comically, "But you do like him, correct?" He asked, sounding curious and for all the world like a teenage girl about to get her hands on some juicy gossip, "America told me and France you did."
Who knew Alfred wanted to die early?
Gritting his teeth trying to hold back his anger, a blush darting across his face mumbling about how he was going to deal with the fucking hoser later. In response to the question he just nodded his head, looking away. England just smiled gently and pat his leg "Good luck son," He was smiling slightly when he stood and left the Canadian's sight. Matthew just folded his arms and hid his face in them, plotting Alfred's demise.
What Canada didn't know was that England hadn't left yet. He was still there, but was now in the kitchen.
Russia had been wrapping both fluffy and Kumajiro up in his scarf, making him giggle happily. He already knew he had a rather outlandish sense of humor; it just wasn't dark like people seemed to think it was. It was only odd. When he heard steps approaching the kitchen he turned around his giggles ceasing but the smile still there. It dimmed slightly when he saw England not Matvey, but the emerald eyed nation pretended not to notice.
The oddest thing about the visit was that England had a fierce look in his eyes that surprised Russia. England walked right up to him and, despite the drastic height difference, managed to look intimidating. His words were only a threatening mummer, "If you hurt him, I know six ways to castrate you with a spoon." Then he smiled, all traces of threatening manor disappearing, "Good luck!" He said before trotting off, presumably out the door as Ivan heard it close a few seconds later. He really was a strange nation.
Violet eyes blinked, a little confused. Did that count as one of Matthew's parental figures's blessing?