Any big, obvious grammatical errors are done on purpose.
(APH)
Honda Kiku enjoyed summer days, as it meant (1) good food, (2) he gets to wear that new, lighter kimono he bought during the winter sale, and (3) Comiket's August convention where he'll be able to check if the new figurines for Moe, Moe Kyun, Kyun: Loli Fight Against the World will finally come out this year. In his hand he held a white plastic grocery bag filled with tonight's dinner ingredients, and even a cup of pudding for a snack or dessert.
But on this particular day, when the sun is unusually hotter than normal (or maybe it's just him?) and not even the shade with the occasional breeze feels nice, has him feeling out of loop.
Kiku closes his doors, and finds that standing is becoming an unnecessary and undaunting task. He ungracefully collapses on his wooden table, feeling the smooth wood absorb all the heat from his cheeks and slowly become a heated stove itself. The air con remote is in his hands, but the many colored buttons all arranged in an unconventional way makes his head spin and he feels that maybe, just maybe, he's sick.
But a nation doesn't have time to be sick; especially since the premier episode of Moe Maid is today—oh, and he has to meet the prime minister for some of the usual politics—oh, and he wanted to attend a fan meeting for this Korean actor he likes whose name always seems to slip him, and he wants to attend not really to see the actor, but to see—
"YO, asshole!" In what seems to be a wave of a fairy godmother's magic wand (in which Kiku notes to himself that he must stop hanging around England), Korea appeared as soon as Kiku's mind wandered over to the Korean.
Kiku can't breathe, and he probably looks like a mess because he's flopped over his table, breathing like he's in labor. His face is horribly bright red, and his hair all of his arms, spilling over the light brown table like black cobwebs.
"Hey…you alright?" Korea's tone suddenly changes, and it's one he's hardly ever heard. The last time he's heard concern from Korea's lips was when Korea accidentally (Kiku hopes) knocked him down a flight of stairs at the entrance of a nearby temple. Korea would apologize profusely, although he would also try to put some blame on the seemingly clumsy Kiku. But Kiku forgave him because Korea would carry him all the way to a hospital, and then back to Kiku's home.
Kiku looks up to a suddenly concerned looking Im Yong Soo, and it's a face he rarely sees, nevertheless towards himself. "Thirsty…" Kiku whispers hoarsely.
But it's not water he wants, but his comfy futon with an ice-cold rag on his forehead.
"Come on," and he feels these oddly strong arms that hurt his sides grip him hard and carefully, "I'll get you water in a minute. Let's get you to bed." And he's suddenly floating in the air, his head lolling up to the ceiling and noticing just how bland this particular room was.
This sudden act of kindness, concern, it both scares and confuses Kiku—He stared at him with such strong, malicious hate and it confused Kiku so much, because wasn't what he was doing right—of their past together. Whole thirty or so years that would change everything between them. But it doesn't mean Kiku hates the attention, not at all.
He knows, and he's sure that Korea knows, that the past is unforgettable—Yong Soo sobbed in his hands, long bony fingers that seems to perfectly describe everything that was wrong with the world—because everything that was done was done.
Which is why he meets with his boss almost daily, and why he feels that whatever pride he had in himself before—The sun was setting low on the horizon and he himself was overshadowed by the towering United States of America whose eyeglasses glinted, covering eyes that seemed to pity his pitiful state—was all gone.
Kiku's back leaned against the wall as his head spun. The noon sun was hot against his sweaty skin—They would fight for the Rising Sun no matter the costs—and the breeze seemed even hotter.
Yong Soo spread out the futon, patting down the wrinkles on the sheets—Millions of wrinkles surrounded him—and turned to Kiku, "Fuck you…" he coughed. "Where are your spare clothes?"
Kiku rubbed his eyes and looked up at Yong Soo, "Top drawer."
Yong Soo walked over to the dresser and opened the top drawer.
"Oh, no, wait, second drawer…" Kiku panicked a little.
Yong-soo quickly shut the drawer, his face a little red. "…I'll pretend I never saw that." Yong Soo coughed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I mean, I like a little porno myself, but not like that—"
"Please…" Kiku felt his face get even hotter.
"Right, right," Yong Soo smiled—It was the last time he ever saw him smile under the afternoon sun with a large pink flower in his hair and another one in his hand for him—and opened the second drawer.
Yong Soo pulled out a light green kimono. It was the one Kiku had bought during that winter sale. "Alright, let's get you changed." Yong Soo walked over to him.
Kiku realized the situation he was getting into. "I-I can change myself."
"Don't be stupid, you can barely talk." Yong Soo sat down in front of Kiku, his hanbok spread all around the boy's legs and even over Kiku's feet—Yong Soo could not lift his head and he could feel the boy struggle underneath his feet, his hanbok torn and ragged—and he reached out to Kiku. "Strip."
"…No."
"Strip."
"…No."
"Strip!"
"No!"
"Damn it, Kiku, it'll only take a second."
"If you're going to strip me, then we must make proper arrangements!"
"To get you undressed?"
"I'll never be able to marry if you see me naked!"
"I HAVE seen you naked, idiot." Yong Soo grabs Kiku's kimono. "Ever heard of a public bath?" Yong-soo sighed in exasperation as Kiku's hands grabbed Yong-soo's wrists. "You're sick, and it's better if you change into new clothes!"
"I can do it myself!" Kiku whined.
Somehow, within Kiku's haziness and incoherency, Yong Soo was able to strip Kiku down to his underwear.
"Your obsession with anime goes this far?"
"Just put the kimono on, please?"
Yong Soo's hands are cold against his hot body. Kiku could feel everything burn up, burn even hotter than before as the man's hands are gentle and cold against his skin—He was so cold…shivering and cold.
"Now, see, that wasn't so bad."
Kiku glares at Yong Soo.
"We're both men, Japan, it's not like I raped you of your innocence or anything." Yong Soo helps Kiku up from the floor and on to the cool, comfortable futon.
Kiku exhales deeply underneath the sheets, and he feels at peace. "I think my fever is going down." He whispers, exhausted with the day's events.
"Really?" Yong Soo cocks his head to one side—"What you got there, Honda?"—"Let's me check."
Kiku expects a gentle hand on the forehead, but what he expects is not what he receives.
Yong Soo presses the palm of his hand firmly on Kiku's forehead, and his other hand travels down his face where it is placed firmly on Kiku's neck. The hand then moves across Kiku's collarbone as it pushed away the cloth of his kimono and is traveled across his chest, feeling everything.
Kiku's head spun. "Wh-Wh-What the hell are you doing?!" he nearly screams.
"What? Whenever I got sick, China used to do this to me all the time." Yong Soo seems completely oblivious to it all as he continued to press his hand against bare milky skin. "You're really hot everywhere. I think you still have a fever…whoa, shot up, what happened?"
"N-Nothing…" Kiku's red face was more from embarrassment than sickness.
"Ho, ho, ho, you fallin' for me, Japan?" Yong Soo grinned—"Whoa, that's really cool! We should do a joint drama production, yeah?"—and patted Kiku's cheek gently.
"N-No! A-Absolutely," Kiku coughed, hacking away whatever was left of his bad excuse.
"Okay, okay, I was kidding, kidding." Yong Soo laughs, pulling his hands away and adjusting Kiku's kimono.
And Kiku feels this sort of absence, and to be honest, he wanted Yong Soo to continue pressing his hand across his chest—Yong Soo keeps to himself, and even when it comes to that time he does not open himself up—because it felt like the world was complete. Kind of. Sort of.
Suddenly, something is on his head and Kiku snaps out of his dreamy state to find that Yong Soo is pressing his forehead on Kiku's.
He can't speak, and his face becomes even redder than before.
"Just double checking…" Yong Soo assures him, but Kiku does not find comfort in that statement at all.
He's so close. His hair tickles Kiku's cheeks and his breath curls and tickles his nose and lips. And his eyes are oddly large and bright and almond shaped, almost as if they were waiting to be eaten. And his lips are so close, partially open, moist with saliva.
Kiku wants to faint, but he can't.
He wants Yong Soo to understand that it's his duty, but the Korean boy just screams in his hands as he sees everything burn away into nothing. The black smoke curls up in the sky and he can see butterflies of flame lick away at the oddly clear blue sky and he can see everything burn and fall in his hands. The blood never washes away.
Kiku feels tears form at the corners of his eyes, as it's all too much for him.
"…WHOA, Kiku, I'm not doing anything, really!" Yong Soo is about to pull back, but something bewitches Kiku to pulls his arms from underneath the futon sheet and catch the back of Yong Soo's neck before the boy could pull away.
It's obvious that Yong Soo sees him. They stare at each other for a while and Kiku notices that Yong Soo is stronger not so skinny, with fiery eyes accompanied with an interesting little hair curl. And he wants to go up to yong soo to say something but the words wont come out and the korean boy walks past him almost maliciously and kiku can feel everything within him swell and burst into nothingness as the sun begins to set once again but this time no shadow and no comfort its all him and nothing but him.
"You don't say my name very often." Kiku whispers hoarsely as Yong Soo's surprised face humors him just a little.
He hugs the nation in his arms and he can feel the tears wet his uniform and he can feel the nation struggle but theyre both too weak to do anything and in the corner of his eye he can see everything begin to fall and crumble not just korea but also china and japan and everything else as the sun is gone and the emperor his god is nowhere to be seen and there are screams of all kinds from everywhere around him not just from yong soo but from himself as well as the planes crash and the families die all for the sake of the rising sun.
Yong Soo is speechless.
A first among many to come.
He pulls Yong Soo closer, but Yong Soo isn't struggling, and brushes his dry lips against Yong Soo's soft ones. It's all he ever wanted. And before he could pull Yong Soo any closer, his partner suddenly crashes into him and there is a sense of release and ecstasy that came with this sudden kiss.
Yong Soo pulls Kiku closer by the waist and everything seems to be shared. It's almost painful how Yong-soo's teeth are clashing with his, as he runs a tongue over Kiku's lips and the roof of his mouth.
Kiku isn't used to such heated kissing, not that it's the very first time. But he likes to keep things simple, quick even, because he's afraid that if he relishes in the moment, the withdrawal will be too much to bear. And somehow, as much as his mind is telling him to back out, to find a way to end this, his arms do not follow as they tighten their grip around Yong-soo's back.
Yong-soo then pulls back, just a little, his almond eyes even rounder and fatter as the chocolate like middle melts with his sweat.
"Wh…What…" Kiku breathes, but is interrupted.
Yong-soo slowly lowers himself, pressing a lip to Kiku's forehead. "Your head is still hot." He breathes.
He presses his lips at the inner corner of Kiku's right eye. "Why are you crying, you pussy?" He laughs.
He presses his lips to Kiku's left cheek. "God, you need to gain some weight you skeleton."
He presses his lips to the top of Kiku's nose, and then to Kiku's chin. "You're so Goddamn pointy, shit."
He presses his lips to the left side of Kiku's neck and licks once. "Your pulse is racing." He smiles into Kiku's neck.
He presses his lips to the middle of Kiku's collarbone. "Blegh…salty…"
And he rises back up, looking at Kiku's eyes, barely open. He licks his lips once. "God, you're so…" But he doesn't finish his sentence as he kisses Kiku's lips once gently, and a second deeper.
Kiku is entranced, his skin prickling. He pulls away Yong-soo's hanbok, feeling the hot skin, and he squeaks as Yong-soo undoes his kimono.
Kiku's bare skin is exposed and so is Yong Soo's, and he can feel Yong-soo's heart against his, barely in-sync.
And suddenly, it stops.
"I can't…I…can't…" Tears are shed as trembling hands pull away. "I can't."
Kiku feels cold.
(APH)
Done. Yay!
I'm a sucker for complex couples, which is why I really like KoreaxJapan (and vice versa).