To say that the room had fallen silent was an understatement. It was more accurate to say that someone went and purged the act of vibration (keep your minds out of the gutter, please) from existence, making it impossible and therefore rendering sound impossible, or than someone went and made speech impossible, because unless crickets talked or somehow made sound without vibrations, they still chirped noisily to fill in the increasingly awkward silence. Of course, there was still one person that kept talking, although considering the current comprehension skills of everyone in the room it might as well have been crickets chirping.
"What?"
He sat there, joyously oblivious, a big stupid smile plastered on his sun kissed face as seemed as permanently as he stared at the rest of the nations in the room cluelessly. Any reason for them to have such horrified looks on their faces (well, maybe excluding nations equally as oblivious or uncaring as he) was just beyond him, it seemed.
Well, was the fact that Australia was sitting next to Russia such a big deal?
Alright, so to be fair, even Ivan found it a surprise, if his eyebrows placed so high on his forehead that they rivaled only Mt. Olympus had anything to show for it. No one ever sat next to the Russian willingly (except Natalya, but hey, even Ivan doesn't want to sit next to that nut job), especially since Christmas was rolling around; everyone would much rather sit next to their friends and such (really, why couldn't they hand out their gifts after the meeting?). While the Baltic nations would usually sit next to him, Eduard had left his seat near the larger nation in favor of sitting next to his friend Tino, with Raivis opting to sit with Peter (what was he doing at the meeting, anyway?) and Feliks had gone and taken Toris with him. His sister, Yekaterina, still stayed a fair distance away from him, and his other sister, Natalya, was missing for reasons unknown (not that Ivan cared; at least she was awayfrom him!), leaving the Braginski to sit in his lonesome.
And since there was such a huge empty space, Steve, who usually sat in the back where no one noticed him (through no fault of his own, of course! It was just that the other seats were always taken), took advantage of the situation. At least, in his mind it was an advantage. Everyone would much rather have gone unnoticed than to sit next to the Russian nation to get attention.
"Dudes, seriously, I thought we were supposed to be talking or something," Alfred cut in the silence, being one of the blessedly oblivious people as he resumed slurping his soda noisily. For the sake of insulting the blond, Arthur also broke into the silence, "Don't hurt yourself there!"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
And just like that, the small incident (if it could even be called that) was forgotten, and everyone returned to bickering amongst themselves once more. The brunet looked at everyone else for a while longer, still confused as to why they had fallen silent so suddenly in the first place before finally shrugging it off. Yet, Ivan still stared at the Aussie as if he had sprouted pineapples for ears. Give the guy a break, okay? His previous Christmases were so cold and lonely that in meetings the seats next to him would surely give you frostbite if you dared sit in them! To even have someone simply sit next to him made him feel… well, confusingly warm and fuzzy.
"Why are you sitting next to me?"
For the first time, it seemed, Steve noticed that someone was actually sitting next to him and he looked up at the silver-haired male, now more confused than ever.
"Uh, am I not supposed to sit here? Sorry, mate."
The Russian was confused as to why the Australian had used the word 'mate' to refer to someone whom he'd never really spoken with, let alone someone whom he bred with, but panic quickly overrode his confusion when Steve made to stand from his seat and walk off. His arm shot out and grabbed the other nation's hand before he could stop it and he looked up at him, trying his best not to look as baffled as the other was or pleading. Of course, he failed miserably, but Steve wasn't doing much better with his confusion!
"Нет, нет! It is alright! It is just… people do not usually want to sit next to me," Ivan all but mumbled the last part, wringing his hands, somewhat embarrassed. Steve only laughed boisterously, clapping a hand on the giant's shoulder, causing the other to flinch at the sudden contact. Steve didn't notice.
"Well, that's just weird. So hey, how's it goin'?"
"Um, uh…" Ivan sputtered, still fidgeting, a slight red coloring his face. It had been forever since another nation had willingly initiated a conversation with him! What was he supposed to say? He did not like the feeling of being like a nervous little school girl with a silly infatuation! (Not to say he was infatuated with anyone, of course!) He was the Russian Federation, damn it! He was the largest nation of them all and could totally own everybody if he wanted to!
"…things are, uh, going f-fine." Damn it. "How are you?"
"Well, it's gettin' real busy this time of year at my place," the Australian rambled loudly, before lowering his voice and smiling sheepishly at Ludwig, who glared at him for interrupting his speech. "Everyone's doing Christmas shopping and cramming the shopping centers 'cause it's too hot outside."
At this, the Russian perked up. It did not snow at Steve's house?
He must have said this aloud, for the brunet started to laugh. Ivan could not help but feel a bit embarrassed. Just a tiny bit.
"Eh, only in some places. But not in Christmas; it's summer then," Steve explained, before pausing to heave a sigh. "Never have gotten a White Christmas at my place."
Here, the conversation came to an abrupt halt, and Ivan felt the same unfamiliar nervousness from before rise up. He did not want their talk to end there! It may be another blue moon until someone decided to talk to him again! When Steve didn't continue talking, and the gray koala on his shoulder (since when did that get there?) began to glare at him with evil, glowing red eyes, in desperation, Ivan spit out the first words that he could form coherently in his head.
"You could come to my place for Christmas!"
Well. Even Ludwig had to stop talking at the exclamation. Ivan felt all the eyes in the room turn to him, the air becoming thicker. Immediately, the Russian could not help but feel foolish. Even his dear Toris would not spend Christmas withhim, instead choosing to spend it with that excruciatingly annoying Pole! Why would Steve want to spend time with him? In fact, there was even less chance that he wanted to go than Toris did, or maybe even Alfred! (Of course, Alfred would only be there to sneak hamburgers or something equally vile into his country, or replace his food with Arthur's cooking…)
The Australian probably hadn't even experienced winters as harsh as his! Why, Ivan was sure that Steve would contract some form of frostbite the moment he crossed Russian borders! General Winter knew that he had enough ice statues stashed in his house, why so willing to give more?
The Russian was so caught up in his thoughts and was all too ready to retract his offer that he almost didn't hear Steve's reply.
"Sure, why not?"
If Ivan thought that was enough to force order into chaos, Steve had to go up to eleven and break the damned meter.
"You could come to my place, too! It's warm as hell there!"
Then all hell broke loose. No, not just hell. Now God would surely unleash his wrath and smite him at that very moment, or Thor would drop his hammer on his toe and blame him and choose to kill him in painful ways so unimaginable that he had not even imagined it yet! It would be horrible! No, wait, in fact, he wished for it! Anything to get him away from the center of attention! It was just too embarrassing! If he thought his place was cold before, it was now flooding because his face was hot enough to melt all the ice and snow! No, the floodgates had not yet opened; he was not crying! Why would he? That was just silly! Surely, if he cried, his tears would freeze the instant they were released from the tear ducts, forever preventing him from crying or blinking ever again! But hadn't he said that it was hot enough to flood? Screw his frantic, contradicting thoughts!
Just when he though that he'd run out of the meeting in a manner not all too different to that of his dear older sister, what with the overdramatic run and shoujo tears streaming down the cheeks, Ivan decided he would not take crap. Well, at the very least, he wasn't about to let anyone whisper, stare and snort at him or just plain walk over him without him having a say about it!
"I-I think that would be wonderful," Ivan said to the Australian, who in turn smiled brightly enough to outshine the sun and break the light bulb. Then the Russian turned to everyone else, and continued with a shaky smile, "Don't you think, да?"
Then the funniest thing happened! Everyone's face turned the most interesting shade of blue, save for Feliks who probably abhorred any color but pink on anythingthat he owned. Ivan thought this the strangest thing. What a weird way to react! Everyone acted as though the temperature had dropped several degrees. Had General Winter snuck in without his knowing? His eyes darted around the room in slight paranoia, and all the nations he skimmed over hastily averted their eyes. Then Ludwig coughed and with the smallest of stutters, resumed his speech.
"Uh, hey there, mate," Steve suddenly said, placing his hand delicately on the big man's shoulder. Ivan hadn't even noticed that he had retracted it in the first place. "You can stop scaring everyone now."
Ivan was being scary?
"That is just silly. I am not being scary!"
Steve just looked disbelievingly at him. Even Antonio had shuddered at his earlier display! He was probably the densest person in the room! And yet Ivan himself did not think he was scary? Either the big guy was lying or he really wasn't trying to be scary. And if the latter were true… the Australia shuddered to think how he acted when he wanted to scare people.
"S-So, anyway. How 'bout I go to your place for Christmas, and for New Year's, we go to my place, yeah? Is that alright?"
"That sounds good, да? But I might have to discuss this with my…" Ivan shivered, and trembled as he spoke, "little sister, Беларусь."
The brunet stared at him silently, blinking slowly before asking, "Bela-whatsit? Who's that?"
…
…
..-
"YOU DO NOT KNOW?"
The yell instantly quelled all conversations in the room and this time even the crickets fell silent, and again all eyes turned to the tall Russian who was now standing in all his tall glory, bearing down on an Australian as equally confused as everyone else in the room. But for once, Ivan didn't care for the stares, only grabbing Steve harshly by the shoulders, as he continued to shout,
"БЕЛАРУСЬ IS THE DEVIL'S SPAWN! SHE IS INSANE! SHE HAS LOST HER MIND! FOR ALL WE KNOW, SHE DRINKS THE BLOOD OF VIRGIN WOMEN AND SACRIFICES BABIES!" Ivan cried hysterically, eyes glazed over. If Steve wasn't terrified of him before, surely he was now. "I mean, I know, she is моя сестра, and she is very красивая, but one cannot take her tendencies for so long! She is like a nymph! Красивая, да, but harm befalls all who dare approach her! I must be dead a thousand times over!"
"You got that right, you commie zombie," Alfred snorted, but was quickly shut up with a glare by Arthur. (A chill ran down his spine as he sensed a glare of disapproval, but when he whirled around he did not see anyone…)
"She is evil incarnate! She is Jekyll and- no, she is simply just Hyde! She is darkness' mistress! She is marmite's personification! She is the stepsister of Франция! The daughter of Baba Yaga! She is- Боже мой, is she here?"
Ivan's crazed eyes shot around the room like wildfire and by the time Ludwig tried to tell the hysterical Russian that no, his sister was not here and was away with a cold, the silver-haired man had stormed out of the room with a pathetic wail.
"All that loneliness must be getting to him, what with Christmas being so close and all," Alfred said through bites of his cheeseburger, his insensitivity earning eye-rolls from everyone minus the Baltic nations, who were 110% sure that the moment they even tried to do something so heinous, Ivan would surely come колколколing back into the room with a pipe. The fact that the колing made him sound like a demented Santa did not help at all.
"I'll… go get him," Steve finally said after a minute of silence, earning a few appreciative nods and murmurs as he headed quietly outside the door.
When the Aussie finally found the Russian, he had just suffered an hour's worth of Ivan-hunting, having searched the entire building (and it was a damn big building) no less than ten times and had interrogated at least fifty people. I mean, how hard could it be to find a six-foot something scarf-toting silver-haired psychopathic manchild? That's what the brunet had initially thought, but no, it had to take sixty minutes of his life that he would never get back in order to see just how wrong he could be!
He found Ivan lodged behind a vending machine.
"...uh, hey big fella, wanna get outta there sometime soon?"
The Russian did not move at all, and just when Steve feared that the land of Russia would forever be a place of perpetual winter, Ivan slowly inclined his head toward the Australian from his fetal position (how did he even fit in there?) and rasped,
"Is my sister here?"
"Well, yeah," and Steve instantly regretted his words as Ivan made a horrible sound akin to that of a dying llama.
"I-I mean, your older sister. Ukraine was it? Belarus-"
"She-whose-name-shall-not-be-spoken," Ivan whispered, eyes wide. Steve swallowed.
"-uh, she-who-shall-not-be-named is sick and stuff. So, uh, what were we talking about?"
Ivan looked up at Steve properly, before finally shuffling his way out of the niche and straightening up to stand, leaving the Aussie momentarily stunned. He knew that the bear was huge, but this? He didn't look all that big sitting down, but standing up? He completely dwarfed the Australian! Steve spent his moment of shock staring up at the Russian, who was beginning to feel a bit uncomfortable with all the unwanted attention. He cleared his throat.
"We were planning to... meet-up, да?"
"Oh. Yeah. Uh, so you have to discuss it with your sister, right? Maybe she could come along instead?"
Ivan's vocal cords upgraded from dying llama into bleeding cactus. Maybe Steve was secretly a sadist (or was it masochist?)...
"I-I was just joking, mate. We'll talk more about this later; we've already missed enough of the meeting as it is, if it isn't already over! So c'mon, let's go!"
"Да."
It had been a week since they had last spoken, and oh, Christmas was so frighteningly close! The duo's plans had not yet been discussed in detail. The Australian had simply told the Russian that he would come 'whenever'; all the Russian had to do was wait for him. Ivan was then told to also come over 'whenever', as long as he'd stay over for New Year. Steve left it at that, leaving Ivan to come up with the rest. He had not yet started to plan Christmas. Westerners began Christmas terribly early (although, Australia was not exactly to the west...?)! He wasn't even supposed to start planning until after New Year!
That thought put a slight damper in the man's mood. It would be the first year that he would not be able to plan his own New Year's celebration. But then again, what had he to miss about it? New Year's was celebrated much more at his house; everyone was just so lively! But he, himself, sat alone in his empty house, with only his bottle of vodka to keep his company. Yekaterina would try her best to come every yeaer, but sometimes it just could not be done. This year, he would not plan his New Year's celebration, but what was so fun about planning a celebration spent in solitude? This year, he would be able to celebrate the comingof the New Year together with someone!
The very idea brought color to his cheeks, and a small giggle threatened to escape his lips. It was not like him to admit, but it did get terribly lonely at New Year's. Oh, he was so excited! But how did Australians celebrate New Year's? Surely, it wasn't all too different from how he celebrated it?
Ah, but there were more pressing matters! Christmas was much closer than New Year's could be! (Well, at least, outside of Russia...) He had yet to prepare! Steve could come at any moment now!
As if on cue, Steve had appeared at his doorstep. But he did not knock, leaving only General Winter to tell him that he was indeed in front of his house. Ivan felt his grin widen. Silly Steve! Did he honestly think that he could surprise him? No, that was what Ivan was best at! How could the Australian surprise him by sneaking in, when Ivan had left the door unlocked for him?
Ivan was not very from the door. Almost all the rooms in the house were adjacent to the large hallway that ran from the door to the other side of the building, and he sat in the room closest to the door. There was a large window in ever front room of the house, and no doubt Steve had seen him through his window. Well, now Ivan was the silly one! He was so preoccupied with his own thoughts that he failed to notice Steve sneak up on his house!
He heard the familiar creak of the door opening, but it was a bit different in that it was opened much more softly, and the hand that rested on the brass knob was much lighter. Careful footsteps invaded the silence; had the house been a bit more lively, as when the Baltic nations were scuttlingaround, then surely the Australian would not have been heard, but that was not the case for now. A shaky exhale warmed the air as the door was shut just as carefully as it was opened. Ivan had to cover his mouth to hide his giggle as he imagined the Australian shivering. He could practically hear the poor nation shivering!
With the feet of a cat, Ivan tiptoed out of his seat and approached the entryway from the room into the hallway. He held his breath as the footsteps from the hallway came to a sudden stop, and for a while neither moved. Had Steve been alerted of his presence? It was the only reason he could think of for the brunet to have stopped so suddenly. He could just be suspicious, but that did not necessarily mean that he knew the Russian was there! Not a sound could be heard, and it felt as if the world had stopped turning until a moment later the light footsteps continued, and, if anything, were even quieter and slower than before. The footsteps became ever closer and just when Steve would make the turn and see the Russian-
"КОЛКОЛКОЛКОЛКОЛКОЛКОЛКОЛКОЛКОЛКОЛ-"
"BLOODY HELL!"
Ivan let out a loud, hearty laugh at the Australian's shriek, and was in tears by the time Steve had managed to pick himself up off the floor. Oh, his reactions were so much more amusing than that of Raivis'! Every time, the Latvian would drop out cold, but would never provide such an interesting reaction! At this point, Steve looked much less shaken and much more relieved.
"You scared the bejeezus outta me," he huffed, crossing his still shivering arms. "Thought you were an alien or somethin'!"
At this, Ivan made an ugly sort of grimace, and it only served as more reason to be afraid of the Russian. His facial expressions bordered on downright psychotic.
"Next you will be telling me that you believe in ghosts, like that dreadful Америка," Ivan grumbled, spitting out Alfred's name like a hairy, poisonous and not to mention American caterpillar.
"What? No, no. That's lame. Ghosts aren't real. What's your beef with that guy, anyway?"
"Don't like to talk about it," Ivan said curtly, before turning on his heel abruptly to return to his seat, surprised footsteps hesitantly following him in. "Anyway, you have come quite early! Christmas is not for... fourteen days!"
The Aussie stared at him blankly. "...Christmas is tomorrow."
Then it was Ivan's turn to stop and stare, before having to chuckle a little at his own silliness. Of course! Christmas was on the 25th of December and what not...
"Do forgive me then. At my house, Christmas is usually celebrated on the 7th of January."
Steve opened his mouth to talk but Ivan quickly cut the brunet off.
"And to spare you the trouble of asking, the reason we do this is because the Russian Orthodox Church follows the old Julian calendar, which is quite some days behind yours."
"How did you know that I was going to ask that?"
A small smirk quirked the Russian man's lips. "Америка once asked me the same question."
"I can't shake the feeling that you're comparing me with that guy. Are you comparing me with him? 'Cause I'm really nothing like that dude, I swear," Steve blurted out suddenly, leaving the brunet a bit embarrassed and the Russian likewise for having been caught. He had not really meant to compare on purpose, but it just seemed to happen when meeting with other people. Had he offended the Australian? That would be awful! What if Steve decided that he wanted to leave?
"I'm sorry, did I offend you?" Ivan asked with a small frown, his worry evident on his face. "If I did, I did not mean to. It seems that you... ah, what was it? Have a bit of 'beef' with him, also."
"Eh... I don't like to talk about it."
Steve burst into small chuckles, which quickly ascended into full-blown laughter, and before Ivan could grasp why the brunet was laughing so hard he found himself laughing right alongside him. He was just happy that this time around, he actually had someone to laugh with! Oh, how his heart raced and filled with a great warmth! He was sure that his face would split into two from all the smiling and laughing that he was doing today! Surely, this was what friendship felt like. How did he ever manage to live his whole life without it, to live alone as he did? He hadn't even felt like he was alive until right now. How alive he felt just by being with someone that he could laugh and talk with! This, Ivan thought, his laughter dying down into chuckles and giggles, was enough of a Christmas present for him.
"Ah..." Ivan suddenly faltered, causing the Australian to also stop laughing and to look over somewhat curiously. "I did not buy you a Christmas present."
"It's alright, mate," Steve grinned, before it turned into something more sheepish, "I didn't really expect anything, and to be honest, I didn't actually get you anything either. But hey, seeing all this snow for Christmas is enough for me! Funny thing though, I'm actually getting a bit of snow back at my place. It's the middle of summer, would you believe? That's global warming for you, seriously."
Ivan suddenly felt a dull pang in his heart, and he finally recognized it as hurt. He was feeling hurt? Why was it? It felt a little like Steve was using him. Maybe he just invited himself over to see the snow, and he only chose the Russian because he was the most convenient at the time. Perhaps Alfred had declined, and so had Arthur, so he was using the Braginski as a last resort. It was hard to deny that yes, the Russian was indeed feelinga bit upset at the idea that Steve was forcinghimself to be friendly withhim, and on a regular occasion would never try to approach him. What if they ended up witha relationship similar to that of Alfred and he? They acted nice on the surface, but there was a bitter rivalry beneath. He did not want this kind of relationship with the Australian. He seemed pleasant enough, and the fact that he did not run away screaming like a banshee the second he saw the Russian was a big plus, too!
Well, Ivan never thought himself a person whose emotions were displayed clearly on his face, but his emotions seemed to disagree with him this time around and fancied the idea of being a sort of exhibitionist, deciding to make themselves obvious, raw and vulnerable on the Russian's face instead. His expression was one that even the Australian could not ignore, and this time, when the brunet did look at the taller man, he did frown a little. He stared at the Russian, trying to figure out, why would he be wearing such an expression, before something akin to horror dawned on his face as he realized what he had just said and what implications it left. Before Ivan could process this, Steve had his hands gripping the Russian's shoulders, before quickly pulling them back with a red face at Ivan's surprise.
"E-Er," Steve began, waving his hands around in front of him somewhat frantically. "I-I mean, that's not the only reason I wanted to come over! I-I've always seen you at meetings and stuff, but everyone's scared of you and I don't really understand why, I mean, you never seemed particularly mean to anyone, and you were always smiling and stuff so I thought, maybe he's really a nice guy or something! I just thought, I really wanna be your friend and stuff, y'know, and, man, I'm rambling a lot and stuff aren't I? I'll shut up now."
An awkward silence fell upon the two, both havinga tinge of red on their cheeks. Steve tried to convince himself that it was because of the cold and stuff, not because he had just totally blurted out all his feelings like some hormonal girl from a chick flick or something. (Not that he watched them, nope.) No! He had to man up! What he said was the truth, so he had no reason to be embarrassed or anything!
"Well, I gotta admit, that was hella awkward, but I meant it alright? I wanna be your friend!" Steve all but shouted, grasping the Russian's large hands in his own glove clad ones. Emerald green eyes stared intensely into wide violet orbs, and suddenly Ivan felt his face flush. Oh no, he was back to being a pre-teen infatuated girl! It wasn't even like Steve had confessed to him! He just wanted to be friends. But... even being friends was...!
An unstoppable grin broke out onto the Russian's face and before the Australian could comprehend what was happening, Ivan had taken him into his arms for a potentially bone-crushing bear hug that Steve was sure squeezed his lungs out. A deep laugh escaped the Russian, his chest rumbling, and with Steve pressed up against him, it produced a very awkward feeling as the Aussie hastily slapped his hand against the other man's back.
"Okay, okay! So we can be friends, I get it now! Let me go man, please, I gotta breathe!" Steve shouted, gasping for breath when he was released and leaning on his knees. The Russian smiled apologetically.
"I'm sorry, другь. It is just that I am so excited! It's been a long time since I've had a friend over for Christmas, or rather, a friend to have over at all."
"Well, you don't hafta worry about that anymore, mate. I'll be free to come over when you need me, 'cause that's what friends are for. Of course, that means you gotta do the same for me, alright?"
"Да. You know, that sounded exceptionally like something that Америка would say, minus the inane blathering of how heroic it is to do such a thing."
"Hey, there you go again, comparing me to that American! I'm starting to think you wanted me over here as a replacement for him! Well, someone here has a bit of sexual repression!"
Ivan's face flared, and Steve laughed at his own lame joke (if it even deserved to be called that), the Russian attempting to laugh alongside him but only succeeding to sound like some kind of dying motor. Was that how everyone else viewed his and Alfred's rivalry? Sexual repression? Oh boy, and they weren't even back in the Cold War! What did people think of them back then...?
When Steve finally managed to quieten down, he asked, "So anyway, how do you usually celebrate Christmas?"
"Oh, nothing too special," Ivan replied, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "There is usually a Mass held and many people go to it, and families come together. Usually Christmas celebrations are dwarfed by New Year's celebrations..."
"That's kinda like how it's celebrated at my place! Except I guess that Christmas is just as big as New Year's is, and there are a lot of parties and stuff. We celebrate New Year's with fireworks! How do you celebrate it?"
"Well... we remember all the things we did that year, get drunk for the last time of the year and after midnight get drunk again for the first time of the year. I think that is the basic... gist, was it?"
"...okay then. Well, if you want, we'll do that for New Year's too, but you definitely have to see the fireworks!"
"Is it really that interesting?" Ivan asked. He had fireworks over at his place, too, but he never really had the chance to watch them. What could be so interesting about it, anyway? They were not going to be the ones setting off the fireworks, and it would only serve to burst your ears with the explosions. It probably smelled bad, too. Wasn't it really hot over in Australia? If there were many people, wouldn't it just feel hot and stuffy?
"Yeah man! I could even convince some people to let us set off some fireworks, or if worse comes to worst then we can just set off our own fireworks!"
"There are different fireworks?" Sometimes, Ivan thought that these English-speaking nations had a worse grasp on the language than he did.
"I mean, usually there's like this huge celebration at the Sydney Harbour and stuff, and they got these super awesome fireworks! Usually they get professionals to do it and stuff, I think, so the chance that we'll get to set anything off is unlikely."
"That is alright, I would be delighted just to see the fireworks; I do not have to set some off to enjoy myself," not to mention, the Russian did not trust either himself or the Australian to set off something as dangerous as fireworks without hurting someone or something. And what if Natalya was able to find them by the explosions...? There goes the Happy New Year...
"Anyway, are you planning to stay up for Christmas Eve?"
Ivan blinked in surprise and turned to look at the Australian. Ah, Natalya could be ever so distracting. (And that was not meant in a positive light...)
"Considering that I did not even remember that you celebrated Christmas tomorrow, no, not exactly. I would be glad to do it however if you want to."
"No, no. I mean, I can't force you to; you don't even celebrate Christmas tomorrow! I can't make you stay up."
"Oh, but I insist! The point of Christmas is to spend time together with friends and family, да? It would be defeating the point if I did not stay up with you."
Steve rolled his eyes. "Well, alright then. But know that midnight isn't until three hours. What do you wanna do to fill up the time?"
Ivan could think of plenty of things to fill up the time, but none of them were exactly PG rated. He was sure that the tips of his ears were bright red! Spending time with Francis wasn't exactly a healthy hobby. Sometimes he wondered why he did it. (Not to mention why Francis hung out with him in the first place. Maybe it had somethingto do with getting closer to Yao. Steve cringed at his darkening expression.) A few minutes passed and when Ivan finally decided that any ideas he had would not end well, he shrugged. Steve cracked a smile.
"Well," Steve began, "I want to be friends, but I have to admit, I don't know anything about you other than what you told me just now. Um, you're European right? That's all I really know, so I'm kind of feeling like a pathetic friend."
Friend. Ivan wasn't sure if he could ever get over the giddiness he felt when hearing that word. He overcame his giddiness for the moment when he realized what the Australian had just said.
"Нет, I am not European."
"Oh," said Steve, confusion lacing his voice, "but you're in Europe, right?"
"Да, but most of Россия is located in Asia."
"So... you're Asian?"
"Нет, I am simply Russian. Is that not enough?"
Steve narrowed his eyes, thinkinghard (for what, Ivan could not be sure) and just when Ivan was sure that steam would start risingfrom his ears the Australian shrugged. "Fair enough. Okay, so it turns out I really didn't know anything about you. I feel like even more of a douchebag."
At this, Ivan looked a bit upset. "I am sorry, I did not mean to-"
"Relax, mate," Steve laughed, clapping a hand on the Russian's back. "I was just messin' with ya. You wouldn't mind if I sat here with you, would you?"
"Нет," Ivan shook his head vigorously, "not at all!"
The brunet grinned and pulled out a seat from across the silver-haired man. He absently noted how worn the wood of the table was, and for the first time he noticed how large and... empty it was. He wanted to ask the question that had been nagging him since he first entered the house - why was everything so big, big enough to fit dozens of people, when Ivan was the only one occupying the house - but one look at the Russian made him decide against it. He, too, was looking at the rest of the table, but the look in his eyes was distant, a bitter smile adorning his face at the memories that the cracks and stains on the table represented. Steve averted his eyes and cleared his throat. He wouldn't ask now. He'd wait until Ivan felt like telling him.
"So," he began, bringing the Russian's attention to him. "Why have you got Ikea chairs even though your table is totally not?"
Ivan smiled a little. "Финляндия tried to get me to buy the furniture of Швеция some years after he left my house. I told him no, but for the following Christmases after he first proposed the idea, he sent me IKEA furniture until I finally started using it. Afterwards, he only sent me either coal, cheap vodka or a dying sunflower. I do not think he ever meant for the sunflower to be dying, though. I do not think he likes me very much."
Steve scrunched up his nose a little bit. Only then did Ivan notice that the Australian wore a band-aid with Batman on it, and it crinkled a little when the Australian scrunched up his nose. In that moment, Ivan also noticed that the brunet had a light splattering of freckles across his face, and it (strangely, Ivan thought) became more obvious when his face reddened. Ivan found it endearing. Then he realized that Steve was turning red because he had been staring at him intensely for the past few minutes without saying a word. They both coughed before Steve continued, "So, uh. Who is this... er, Finland, is it? Who is he anyway? If he doesn't like you, why does he give you presents?"
Well. Ivan was tryingto stop comparinghis guest to others, but it was becoming an increasingly difficult task when the brunet kept doingthings that others did - Alfred, in particular, of course. Had neither of them seen a world map before? Did ignorance run in the family or something? (Arthur seemed perfectly fine, though...) Hadn't Steve ever stayed up at night to see Santa? He certainly seemed the type. Well, Alfred seemed the type. Ivan really had to stop ciomparing Steve to the American. Maybe Tino never visited Australia? But he delivered gifts even to Ivan and heck, he visited Antarctica, so surely...?
In the end, Ivan didn't know whether to say, 'a man who used to live with me', 'a country... in Europe!' or 'Santa Claus', so he settled for a shrug, smiling, "It does not matter, да?"
Steve never tried to bring it up again.
"Oh!" Steve suddenly exclaimed, surprising Ivan enough to jump in his seat. "You mentioned that this Finland guy gave you sunflowers or somethin'. How come?"
"Ah..." Had Ivan said such a thing? Well, he must have, otherwise there was no way that the Australian would ever have brought it up. Why did he feel so embarrassed all of a sudden? Maybe it wasn't so much being embarrassed as the feeling of his heart fluttering at the mention of the sunflowers.
"I... I really like sunflowers..." Ivan all but mumbled, leaving the Aussie to strain his ears and guess what he said.
"You like them? Is that what you want for Christmas?"
"Да, it is something that I want for Christmas, but it is not only that. I..."
Ivan had just suddenly started spilling everything out like a broken faucet, but now he stopped to consider what he was saying. Was he sure that he wanted to tell him this? He had never told anyone before in fear of being made fun of, and he never tried to express it to his sisters as a child, knowing that he was not the only one longing for an escape from their icy prison. Only once, had he told someone, but chances were that they remembered it as little more than a dream. But the circumstances were different now, and... Ivan looked up into Steve's curious green eyes. The Australian was his friend, wasn't he? Sure, the brunet liked to joke around a lot, but surely he would not tease the Russian on something he felt so strongly about?
"It is... it is my dream to live in a warm place, surrounded by sunflowers. Winters in Russia are cold and harsh, and I have gotten used to it over the years, but the truth is, I hate the cold. It is always so lonely and so dull..."
Steve stared at the Russian's reddening face across the table silently, looking slightly confused as to why the Russian was so embarrassed in the first place. Francis liked roses, and in his opinion, they were a hella lot more girly than sunflowers could ever hope to be.
"That's pretty cool. My dream isn't nearly as half as awesome as yours, man."
"You do not think it is strange?" asked Ivan curiously, looking up at the Australian. Steve raised a thick brow.
"Why would I think it's strange?"
"People think that it is strange for a person like me to wish for such a thing..."
"Well, mate, I don't think it's weird," Steve said, crossing his arms as if in defiance. "Anyone would wish for something like that. I mean, especially if you live in a place as cold as yours for a long time. I think I'd go insane if I had to live here! N-No offense, of course."
Ivan laughed a little. "Нет, I understand. I would go crazy, too."
"Then, come to my place for New Year's, like I said! I'm not sure about us having sunflower fields in Australia or whatever, but is is real warm! I mean, of course you can't live there, but you could come over any time you want!"
Ivan was overwhelmed. Were all Australians so straightforward and... nice? Was he doing this out of sheer politeness, or pity? No, Toris was polite, but he certainly would not invite Ivan into his home, and as for pity... the look in Steve's eyes was anything but. They burned with the intense heat of the scorching Australian deserts; how could he mistake that for pity? By the time Steve had finished his short speech, the Australian was standing tall, holdinghis hands again witha firm grip. But this time, Steve held them with a tenderness that he only remembered his dearest sister Yekaterina having, when she held his hand through the cold years they endured.
"Да. Спасибо, мой другь."
"You know, I can't understand a bloody word you're sayin' there, mate."
"Да. And, 'you know', you have no sense of personal space."
At this, Steve quickly backed up, face redder than Uluru on a sunset. "S-Sorry, mate."
Ivan cracked a smile. "I was just joking, да?"
Steve laughed, and Ivan laughed with him. But no matter how much the two thought that they could honestly stay up the entire night, they found their eyelids becoming heavy and their minds becoming hazy, and, Steve noted, looking at the small clock that hung on the wall behind Ivan, the two had just less than an hour left before midnight struck. On any regular day, they would have been able to stay up till... heck, they could have stayed up for a week straight! But what with recent happenings and the fact that, well, it was almost New Year and pretty much everyone was busy, they were already beginning to feel sluggish.
Steve raised an arm to scratch at the band-aid on his nose, but found that his arm felt like lead, so he quickly dropped it.
Was it their minds that were tired, or just their eyes? Was there even a difference? Steve didn't know, and that was probably the first sign that he was getting sleepy, but hey, those aren't the kind of things you remember when you're feeling drowsy. The Australian quickly shook his head an kept talking in an effort to stay awake.
"I know that this is totally random, but I can't help but feel that those last moments were incredibly sappy. Sorry if I made you feel like a total chick."
"I am not a 'chick', as you call it," Ivan frowned, rubbing his eyes softly after a great deal of will power. Now even his hands would not obey him. Maybe his age was getting to him...
"That's what I'm saying. Sorry If I made you feel like one."
"Да, да."
Then Ivan paused to think for a moment.
"You said that your dream was not... half as 'awesome' as mine. Then, may I ask, what is your dream?"
"Ah. That. Well, to be honest," said Steve, scratching his head in a somewhat embarrassed fashion. "I don't really have a dream. Well, I mean, I kinda do. But it doesn't really count, I think."
'Nonsense! Everyone has a dream," Ivan protested, leaning forward enough over the table to tip his chair. "No matter how big or how small. What is your dream, да?"
Steve's hand dropped from the back of his head. Hopefully, the head-scratching was not a habit. Ivan had seen enough of it happening with Kiku. "I just wanna live a good life, y'know? I wanna give my people what's best and stuff, and I want them to live good lives and stuff too."
To Steve's slight horror, at this, Ivan looked ashamed, his eyes downcast and his pale lips pursed. Had he said the wrong thing?
"I do not understand why you do not think you have an 'awesome' dream. You think of your people in your dream. Your country. I think only of myself. I think that is very... heroic of you. I do not think that is the word, but... it is the closest that I can think of. My dream is... selfish."
Steve wasn't sure what to say to this. Every time he tried to say something, it felt as if he were going to step on a landmine. It wasn't as if he liked making things awkward! He hated how their conversations hit bumps, and Ivan would get all depressed, and then it was Steve's fault! So much for being heroic. Anyway, it wasn't as if he liked making people sad! He didn't know how to deal with sad people! He felt as if he had to say something, before things got too awkward and Ivan tried to lock himself up or kick Steve out or something...
"By the way..."
To Steve's surprise, Ivan spoke first.
"Where is your... erm, koala?"
"Ah, Bob?"
"Bob?"
"Yeah, Bob!" Steve grinned, and Ivan couldn't help but think that it was as if the Aussie's entire being suddenly lit up like a Christmas tree! Speaking of which, he did not have one.. "My koala. He couldn't stand the cold, so I left him back home with Wy. Silly girl thinks she's a nation 'n all that."
Ivan raised a silver brow. "You can keep koalas as pets? Do you have many pets?"
Steve's eyes widened, and he quickly shook his head, succeeding in making his hair ten times messier than usual. "What? No, no! He ain't my pet! Bob's my friend! And yeah, I have lotsa friends! Not all koalas, of course! I've got kangaroos, wombats, echidnas, platypi... platypuses... platy... whatever! And kookaburras, and emus, and Tassie devils! There's a whole load more, too!"
Ivan blinked slowly. Wait, so if his animals were friends, did that mean Ivan was put in the same category as animals...? He shook the thought from his head and remarked, somewhat thoughtlessly, "...were half of those even real animals?"
The Australian looked at the Russian in outright horror. Maybe there was some kind of disorder where you couldn't help but to compare people, but the best way to describe his face at the moment was that it was similar to when Ivan had told Alfred that Tetris originated in Russia.
"Of course they are! Kangaroos, wallabies, koalas... the whole lot of 'em are marsupials! Basically, they're mammals with pouches 'n most of 'em are endemic to Australia! And we also have monotremes! The only species in the world are the platypuses and echidnas, and you can find 'em down under! We've got crocs and eagles and a lotta reptiles, too!"
Ivan took a moment to soak in all of this information, and even then the Australian was still grinning from ear to ear. Ivan ended up smiling a little, too. "You seem very keen on animals."
Ivan thought he had seen the brightest smile in the entire universe the day Steve sat next to him, but the brunet proved him wrong by smiling even brighter. He recalled the Soviet factory that once made sunglasses that blocked out the sun and he sorely wished he still had a pair. "Am I ever? Animals are totally awesome, mate! Y'know, there was once this guy, from Australia..."
Steve was still smiling, but his smile no longer illuminated the room, and Ivan could not help but feel that his expression had taken on a morose quality. "...he died a while back. The guy wrestled with crocs, but was done in by a stingray. Ironic, eh?"
Awkwardly, Ivan placed a hand on the Australian's shoulder in an attempt to console him, but quickly flinched away when Steve's head snapped up, thinking he had done something wrong. Steve only smiled.
"Dude, it's Christmas, but we always manage to go back to being depressing. It's like, some kinda disease or somethin'. We're supposed to like, celebrate and stuff! By the way, I was thinking that we could go outside in the snow tomorrow?"
In unison, the two shot a dubious look outside the window, which creaked sadly at them from the abuse it endured from the harsh winds pounding against it and the cold ice trying to impale it. They could feel its pain.
"...maybe when that storm dies down. Um. So, do you have any Christmas wishes?"
"There is such a thing?"
Steve chewed on his lip. "Well, we wish for presents for Christmas, so we could wish for anything iin general, right? Well, alright then, Christmas wishes or New Year's wishes."
Ivan stared down at his hands. Why was it that people looked at their hands when nervous or in thought? Ah, but that was beside the point. Something that he wished for...
He looked up again, and hesitantly continued.
"I suppose... I wish to have more friends. I wish for my sisters to be happy. That is all I wish for the New Year."
"Awesomesauce. If you wish hard enough, your wish can come true."
"Да. I only wish taht it was as simple as that for a wish to come true," then Ivan paused to let out a long yawn, slumping against the table.
"Don't think so negatively dude. Anyway, I think we should call it a night."
Ivan forced his body to turn, and when it refused and protested with a loud crack and lots of pain, he instead craned his neck around very slowly to look at the clock. The Russian was sure that if he moved any faster, his head would roll off his shoulders.
"...but we have twenty minutes?"
With spectacular effort, Steve managed to pull the corners of his lips upward to form the slightest semblance of a grin.
"S'ok. We're both obviously too tired to stay up. I think we've asked the same questions about ten times already. Wait, that might'vebeen me. Anyway, we've got tomorrow, don't we? Let's just go to sleep."
"...Да, then."
They both rose from their seats at painfully slow rates, Steve stretching his arms in a yawn while following Ivan out of the room, bothtoo tired to even raise their feet off the ground properly, instead dragging their boots around and creating a cacophony of screeching skewered chipmunk as their shoes were forcefully pulled over the wooden floors. Their tired brains blessfully tuned it out.
Abruptly, Ivan stopped at the door, leaving Steve to wonder, 'when did this squishy wall get here?' The Russian turned around, and it took a moment for his addled brain to remember what he was supposed to say. Yes, it was very important, but wasn't it usually the important things you forgot when you're sleepy?
"As I said earlier, I have not yet begun preparing, which means... which means you have no room."
It did not go unnoticed by the two that Ivan's accent got stronger as he became more drowsy, but they decided to ignore it. Bringing it up was too much work, anyway. Besides, it wasn't as if the Aussie's accent wasn't getting worse and worse by the second... goodbye, letter R...
"...you said that?"
Ivan shrugged helplessly, almost knocking the Aussie back in the process. "Maybe, да? Point is, you do not have place to sleep. There no couch."
"Bu' then ah won' 'ave anywhe'ah ta sleep..."
Ivan turned around fully to face the Australian, straining his ears and eyes as if he didn't know whether the man standing in front of him was really human, or if he was some kind of alien whose disguise was slipping. Was he even speaking English anymore? Perhaps garbled Russian? Whatever the case, the alien really needed a better disguise...
"That not true, да? We share bed, да?"
Well, either Steve was too far off in la la land to have any shred of sense left or he was just plain stupid (both options were very probable), otherwise he wouldn't have agreed without a second thought.
"Sure, sure, wha'evah, jus' show me tha' way, mate."
Without another second to waste, Ivan grabbed Steve's arm and led him down the hall and up the stairs. Of course, in his haste, the two ended up tripping and stumbling over thin air more times than they cared to count at the moment, but their temporary apathy also meant that they did not care that they were falling over like a pair of drunkards. They probably wouldn't care if Alfred was in the house taking photos for blackmail...
The strong wind battered noisily against the aged windows, the pair's creaky footsteps echoing in the large, silent halls, but on they walked, until they finally reached a door left slightly ajar. Steve found the room inside to be surprisingly empty. Wait, why surprisingly? What exactly had he been expecting? A war zone littered with broken vodka bottles and firearms on a floor with holes in it, or for there to be blood strewn across the room for it to look like a torture chamber? (He fancied even a cave, or whatever it was that bears slept in, but if he ever told the Russian that he was sure that Ivan would bash his brains in.)
Well, his first ideas of the room were not all that far off the mark. In his sleepy state, he failed to see the various vodka bottles scattered on the floor, some half full and others completely empty, and he ended up tripping over one of the bottles, sending both men hurtling towards the bed in the corner of the room, barely avoiding the bulky desk positioned next to it. Neither tried to get back up. All they could think of at the moment was, 'mm, squishy'.
A comfortable silence enveloped the two, but before either could slip out of consciousness, Ivan whispered, a hint of guilt in his voice, "I am sorry we could not stay up for Christmas."
"S'awright. 'M sorry fer makin' ya celebrate Christmas 'n a diff'rent day," Steve mumbled back, turning his head slowly towards the Russian. A sleepy smile worked its way onto Ivan's face.
"Всё хорошо. It is what friends are for, да?"
Steve took a moment to yawn and process what the Russian just said, registering the Russian words as 'fuzzy cars are sure', and he spoke up only when they were dangerously close to drifting off again.
"I... don't think you're selfish."
Ivan's violet eyes widened (well, as much as they could in his current state), and had the Aussie not been as sleepy, he would have thought he saw the Russian's lip warble a bit, or he would have thought that Ivan had lost his ability to swallow, what withthe trail of saliva running down onto the matress. A moment of muffled breathing later, Steve began to mumble again.
"Ev'ryone wishes... fer tha' sorta thing. 't doesn't make ya any more selfish than 'nyone else. Hell, mate, I wish fer tha' sorta thing too. Y'gotta... stop thinkin' so badly 'f yerself."
Eh, Ivan's lip was definitely warbling now. Steve swore that he say tears in his eyes, but then again, he might just be falling asleep. The guy must've been more out of it than he originally thought.
"By th' way, y'know... y'know how ya said tha' you wan'ed more friends? I think ya will, big guy. B... bu' first... we gotta get suh... some sleep..."
At this point all Ivan could do was make a grunt of agreement. The Aussie smiled, and finally, silence returned, allowing the two to drift off into a sleep of sweet dreams. Slowly, the wind began to die down, whatever remnants of it carrying the toll of the bell signaling midnight.
Sunlight streamed in through the frosted windows, last night's storm having whittled away into nothing more than a few haughty winds that refused to give up, only barely rustling the snow-covered trees with their vain attempts. Had the window been there last night? Well, it was too dark to see it anyway, not to mention that the two sole occupants of the house (no, even insects did not dare to approach the house in fear of its terrifying master. That, or they all died from the cold) were the sleepy-equivalent to totally wasted, which was kind of embarrassing. Speaking of which...
Steve woke up by himself that morning.
Well, that was just fine and dandy, I mean, after all, back home he'd wake up alone, right? No, he didn't! Even back at home, he never woke up alone! I mean, waking up to wallaroos jumping on your stomach and funnelwebs trying to get in under the door counted as having company, right? Either way, Steve wasn't used to being in a large, unfamiliar room in a foreign country that was so quiet and lifeless. And anyway, how would he get home if Ivan ditched him? He was amazed that he was even able to get out of the airport in one piece! He didn't even read Cyrillic, or speak Russian! If it weren't for that busty woman with...
Wait a second! Ivan ditched him!
Steve whimpered. How could he have left him lonered like that? Did he suddenly decide that Steve was a weirdo and he didn't want to be his friend? Alright, so admittedly, he was acting kind of lame last night, but stilL! Oh, no, Ivan wasn't planning to kill him, was he? Was it all a ploy, some kinda trap from the beginning? And to think, it was Christmas!
...wait, it's Christmas!
Excited, he threw off the blankets in a flash (since when did those get there?), almost tripping over himself in his haste to get to the window. Words seemed to fail him the moment he set his eyes upon the wintery landscape outside, everything in sight blanketed with snow, the only thing providing contrast being sky blue to the blinding white. Sure, it had been snowing last night, but at that time all he could think of was how to get out of it, and to be fair, he was stuck in the beginnings of a snowstorm. But now, the chaos had passed, and all was calm, giving the white snow an innocence it previously did not possess.
Looking outside the window, it almost felt like a dream, and only now did it finally kick into Steve's thick head that he was, indeed, in Russia, in Ivan's house. He did get snow at home, but not like this; there was never this much snow at his place.
...if he was at Ivan's house, then where was Ivan?
"Доброе утро, мой другь!"
Steve almost jumped out of his skin at the suddenness of Ivan's voice singing in from the doorway. Darn it, why didn't that door make any noise? Didn't all old doors creak and stuff? Anyway, Ivan was terribly good at sneaking up on people. He would've made for a good burglar. Or maybe not? If the house was small enough, maybe Ivan wouldn't be able to fit throught the window or door or air vent or whatever...
(Again, he would never mention these thoughts to the Russian's face. He'd likely die of ways so unimaginable only Tony or Gilbird - or worse, Tony and Gilbird - could think of it.)
"You scared me there, buddy," Steve finally coughed out, letting out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. "Where were ya, anyway?"
Ivan smiled apologetically, giggling a little. Well, someone sure was in a good mood today. Ivan didn't really seem like a morning person - more like the type to wake up with a raging hangover... he really had to stop thinking such suicidal thoughts. Somewhere around the world, Raivis shuddered.
"I am sorry, да?" Ivan said, and only then did Steve noticed that the Russian was holding something. "I woke up early and thought you might still be suffering jet lag, so I did not want to wake you. I made breakfast, however."
No way... pancakes and a whole load of syrup and bacon? Ivan would've made the best wife ever! ...er, I mean-
"Sweet!" the Aussie crowed, quickly rising from the floor (no, he had not fallen because he was surprised, he had fallen because he was still too overwhelmed by the snow and stuff, of course!) to practically fly towards Ivan, as eager as Alfred with his ice cream. "This is totally awesome, man!"
"Да. I had leftover pancake mix from when Матвей visited my house."
The Australian faltered. "Ah... who's Matvey?"
Ivan's brows furrowed. Matvey? He couldn't recall the name. It must have slipped out by accident. "I haven't a clue.
"Anyway, you should eat now, да? The sooner you eat, the sooner we can go outside. Also, it is almost noon, so this is more like lunch than breakfast. But do not fear, товарищ, for the food is still quite warm despite the cold weather."
Steve's eyebrows shot up (Ivan suddenly understood what that American blabbered about concerning migrating caterpillars), "Whoa, mate! Ya shoulda woken me up earlier! 'S already the arvo!"
"Arvo?" Ivan looked painfully ocnfused. Australian slang was just as... ah, what was it? Mind-boggling as American slang.
"Yeah, the arvo! Anyway, quick, pass me the food so we can go! By the way, have you eaten yet?"
Ivan ended up sitting down on the bed with Steve and eating some of the pancakes, even though he'd already eaten (vodka counted as eating, did it not?) earlier. Damn that enticing maple syrup. Damn it all to his stomach. The Australian's puppy dog eyes certainly did not have anything to do with the turn of events.
"So yeah, I'm done now."
That wasn't possible! All of the pancakes were right there a seconds ago... Ivan looked down at the plate on Steve's lap. The porcelain was clean and even sparkly. He looked back up. Steve burped loudly, before letting out a nervous giggle. Maybe it was possible. Perhaps certain things did run through the family. The Russian suddenly felt a distinct lack of appetite and he subtly pushed the plate away.
"C'mon, let's go!" Steve all but yelled excitedly, literally leaping off the bed as he made a run for the corridor but he suddenly felt something vise-like take hold of his shoulder and he (in a manly manner, I tell you!) shrieked, falling face-first. Groaning, he turned his head slightly to see that Ivan hadn't even offered so much as a wince of sympathy. Maybe it had to do withmonster vodka running through his veins.
"You can not go outside now! That would be suicide!"
Steve's lips (since when did they feel so cold?) curved downwards into a frown (frown, not a pout), and he looked outside the window.
"But there ain't even a storm!"
"That much is true, да. What I mean is, you can not go outside the way you are now."
The Aussie's lower lip jutted out even more. He really, really wanted to go into the snow, damn it!
"What's that supposed to mean? I'm perfectly fine!"
"No, you are not! Look at the way you are dressed, да? Your teeth are chattering, and you even have... oh, говно́, what was it? You have goosebumps on your thighs!"
Did he seriously just say that? Steve raised a thick eyebrow at the slightly reddening Russian, his look clearly saying, 'why are you looking at my thighs?' Then came a sudden realization. Why could he even see his thighs?
The Aussie looked down (huh, so his teeth were chattering) to find that he was dressed in nothing more than his singlet and his boxers. Funny; he couldn't remember taking off his clothes last night. Where were his clothes anyway?
"Then what do I hafta do to go outside? 'S not like I have a change of clothes; I kinda came over in a rush 'n I didn't pack anything 'cept my wallet."
Ivan pressed a finger to his lips, looking upwards thoughtfully. How come Ivan's lips weren't cracked and they were all moist and stuff? Wasn't he feeling cold or anything? The guy wasn't even shivering! I mean sure, he's used to this sort of thing, but still! Steve was used to his own scalding summers, but he still sweated bullets every time they came around!
...wait a second. Steve was staring at his lips!
"I could let you borrow my clothes, да? They are much more suited to this weather."
...alright, so this was getting a bit weird, even for Steve. He had no qualms about sharing clothes and food and whatnot but he only got to know this guy for like... a day. And Ivan didn't have to tell him that the clothes would be too big; one look at the Russian was enough to tell him that his clothes would never, ever fit. But the snow... the snow...
"Oh, bugger. Alright," Steve finally managed to grumble out. He could totally walk out into that snow in his boxers if he wanted to. It's just that he was too awesome for the snow so it'd probably melt the moment he graced it with his presence.
Ivan beamed at him, before excusing himself from the room to find something small enough for the Aussie to wear. Didn't you keep all your clothes somewhere in your room? Like, a really small closet or something? Well, the Russian probably owned a separate room for his clothes. It wasn't that much of a stretch, considering the size of his house. (It wasn't like he could blame Ivan for not using a closet. He'd had his own doubts about them when Arthur started babbling on about Narnia and how he'd 'accidentally' pushed Alfred in.)
"I'm back, да?"
Well, that was bloody fast.
"You do not expect the clothes to magically appear on you, да? Take them, I promise I will not look."
Steve's face flushed as red as his fireworks. It wasn't like he was a chick or something! How embarrassing, damn it! The Russian even looked like he was laughing at him! He was so not going to stand for that!
"I-It's alright! We're all guys here, right? It doesn't matter!"
Ivan only raised a singly silvery brow, a bemused smile present on his face. Steve thought he had won, and obviously didn't expect the words he had coming for him.
"So you are wanting me to look at you, да?"
"Wha- that's- no, that's not...!"
Ivan giggled. Oh, how fun it was to tease the silly Australian!
"I was only teasing, Comrade! You have the most interesting reactions!"
Steve was most certainly not pouting. Grown men did not pout. Especially grown men who were more than a century old. Anyway, it wasn't like he had a reason to be pouting! Sure, Ivan was teasinghim, but like he said, it was only a joke! Nothing to get worked up over! It wasn't even as if he was disappointed. Why would he be disappointed? Ivan was going on about watching him dress, so it wasn't as if he had wanted the Russian to look at him...!
...damn it, he needed to hurry up and change before the snow melted.
"Fine, whatever, just toss over the clothes, would ya? Please."
Ivan complied and threw over a bundle of clothes that felt strangely heavy. Sending surreptitious glances to the Russian nation, who only smiled cluelesslyin return, he held up the garments in full view, dropping one of them (embarrassingly, he thought, seeingIvan's lips quirk up) in the process. The article of clothinghe held in his hands was none other than a large coat meant to reach midwayon the calf. On him, however, it would no doubt reach past his ankles and try to trip him over or something. It was exceptionally thick, not to mention warm. In contrast to the snow outside, the coat was of the darkest black.
Lying on the floor in its lonesome was a pair of pants, looking just as thick as the coat. It was of a color not too different to Ivan's coat (had he been wearing that since yesterday?). Both of the pieces of clothing he was given seemed fairly old, and although larger than himself, they did not seem big enough to fit the Russian. Ivan seemed to notice what he was thinking (no doubt his face having something to do with it, casting expressions without his knowing) and he beat him to asking by speaking first.
"Those are my old clothes. I grew out of them rather quickly, so they have been worn only a few times," Ivan said with a smile. Steve briefly wondered if his idea of a few times and Ivan's idea of a few times were the same. Judging from how Ivan described a 'few' vodka bottles (or, at least, how others described Ivan's idea of a few vodka bottles), most probably not.
Sending one more suspicious look to the Russian, who was still smiling, Steve sighed melodramatically before finally taking off his shirt. Glancing back up at the Russian (one couldn't be too sure), his lips curled the slightest bit downward as he abruptly turned so that his back was facing Ivan.
For a moment, Ivan wondered why in the world Steve was taking off his undershirt, then he decided that he didn't mind; after all, he was getting a free show, wasn't he? Not so much to say that he wanted to look, that is, but more that he had nothing else to look at in the first place. His room was rather empty, after all.
The Australian was fairly tanned - to be expected of such a hot nation (not in that way!) - but upon taking off his white singlet, Ivan noticed that Steve had a slight farmer's tan. He chuckled before he could stop himself, and he quickly averted his eyes before the Aussie turned around. The rustling of clothing stopped, but one accusatory glance later the Australian resumed his movements.
When he was sure that Steve was not looking, Ivan chanced another look. The brunet had well-developed muscles that rippled as he stretched, and the man did not have nearly as many scars as Ivan himself had (he did, however, have an insane number of scratches and bites that he suspected belonged to either a koala or a snake... or maybe both).
On his limbs lay a fairly thick layer of brown hair, but before Ivan could decide exactly how much hair the Aussie had on his body, his limbs and torso were quickly covered up by the black coat he lent to him. Ivan cursed the coat. It would rue the day it blocked his view!
"Uh... dude? You sure you don't got anything smaller?"
This time, Ivan didn't even try to hold in his uproarious laughter. Steve was not amused.
"Uh, not cool mate! Not cool at all!"
Well, it mightn't have been cool except in one sense of the word, but it certainly was cute. It was a strange word to apply to a full grown man, Ivan thought, but Steve wasn't exactly helping his case with his frustrated pout and flushed face, fingers curled around the hem of the coat that pooled around his feet, raising it as high as Ivan's brows when the Russian realized that he could see the Aussie's thighs.
Steve seemed to notice where Ivan's thoughts were going, however, and he practically threw down the edge of the coat with an embarrassed scowl.
"Is this all you really have?" Steve finally asked, hasty to break the awkward (well, at least for him) silence. Ivan was going to say that he did indeed have another coat that would probably fit the Australian better, but that would defeat the point!
"Нет, I do not have anything smaller."
Steve's stare was distrustful. They both knew that what Ivan said was complete and utter bullshit, but neither said anything. Steve's reason being the fear of maybe having to walk outside without a coat...
Ivan found himself suddenly pulled into a staring contest with the green-eyed nation, and for a while, all was silent. Nothing interrupts Mother Russia in a staring contest. Steve's gaze was unwavering, but Ivan would not allow himself to be the first to look away or blink or laugh. No matter how hard he tried, though, he couldn't stop himself from cracking a smile. Was he losing his touch? To his delight, despite his minor slip-up, Steve backed down first. Never would the Russian ever so much as suspect that his 'slip-up' was the reason Steve averted his eyes in the first place. Seriously, Ivan had to be lying when he said he wasn't trying to be scary...
"Yeah, well, don't expect me to walk outside, mate. I'll end up crawling for sure," Steve grumbled, pulling the over-sized pants over his hips and rolling up the waistband.
"That can be taken care of, да?"
Before the Aussie could even protest, the Russian hooked his arms under the other man's knees and back and hauled him into the air, high enough to effectively prevent any argument against 'the slander of Steve's masculinity'. (Ivan wasn't sure why he thought of those words exactly, but it seemed like something that the Aussie would have said. It might've had something to do with the fact that the Aussie was mouthing something that looked like it, but not a word escaped his lips.)
Steve whimpered.
The Braginski only laughed in response, walking out the door without another word. His footsteps resounded in the halls as he descended the stairs, and Steve wondered why the Russian was making so much noise. Well, not so much why as how. I mean, sure, Ivan was a big guy, but surely you could not make so much noise barefoot? Wait, was he actually barefoot...? No...! He wasn't! The bastard was wearing his boots already! The Aussie struggled to look at his own feet while being juggled by the Russian, and he thought despairingly, that his feet were in fact naked and looking no bluer than his flag.
"Dude, Russia, quick! Put me down!"
Ivan laughed and opened the door.
"Ivan!"
The sudden use of his name made the Russian drop his companion. Slowly, he looked down at Steve, who was (quite unceremoniously, might he add, although maybe the word erotically or teasingly could be applied...) rubbing his rear, complaining about how cold the front steps were. It had been so long since he had been called by his human name. To hear his name from the Australian made him feel... strangely happy. That he felt so excited at the simple use of his name made him feel like such a girl, but it was a feeling he could not deny. A feeling that he didn't want to deny. With just simple words and the call of his name, he felt so close, like he could actually connect with the other man. As if he was valued, was actually worth something, as if he were alive.
Before Steve could stand to save himself from an icy, frostbite-y death at the hands of General Winter, he found himself entrapped in arms squeezing him tightly enough to ensure a death quicker but not necessarily less painful than his other option. Steve sorely missed the cold ground, not to mention oxygen...
"Mate! Blimey...! Ivan! You're warmin' me up here pretty well, mate, but it's my feet doin' the freezing, not the rest of my body...!"
Ivan laughed a laugh that was in no way apologetic as he said, "Sorry!"
Then, setting down the shorter man, he said, slowly and deliberately, making sure to savor that one syllable, "Steve."
That alone made Steve turn a shade of red that would put the Soviet Union to shame for reasons beyond him.
'I think I just had an arrhythmia, do you think I had an arrhythmia?' he asked himself, before mentally slapping himself for asking himself such a stupid question. He had to be going insane to be embarrassed by such a simple thing!
With still shaking arms (they shook from the cold! THE COLD!), he weakly pushed at the taller nation's chest, mumbling, "It's too darned early for all this crap. I need damn shoes so we can hurry up and go outside!"
And so, one pair of boots later (a pair of boots that Steve could proudly say belonged to him), the two found themselves suddenly in the middle of a sheet of snow. Well, Ivan suddenly found himself there, having been dragged outside by the hyperactive Australian the second his feet were shoved into his boots. Ivan wasn't about to tell Steve that he had been holding the Russian's hand in the process of dragging him outside, and still had his fingers tangled in his own.
Suddenly, Steve stopped walking and turned to address the Russian.
"Wait a second, how did you know my name?"
Ah, of course. It wasn't often that nations went around telling other nations their human names. Steve's concerns were entirely justified. It wasn't as if he had told Ivan what his name was. Ivan only smiled, and replied with a small giggle,
"Oh, I make it a point to know everyone's name, да?"
Steve thought he felt the tip of his nose completely freeze up into ice.
"Say, мой другь. How do you know my name?"
Forget what Steve said earlier about his nose freezing up. Rudolph was probably throwing a jealous fit by now and the mere color of his ears would probably attract more attention than the ears of an elf. If Steve thought he'd get away from his slip-up, he was dead wrong.
"I, well, I, uh..." Steve tried his darned well best not to stutter, but discovered that spitting out the words was much more embarrassing than just thinking them. It would be over in like five seconds, like ripping off a band-aid! A band-aid that hid Natalya-like tendencies and the potential end to his dignity, but hey, he didn't become a stable nation by being too scared to face a little pain and leaving all the decisions to everyone else! (Steve pointedly ignored his inner!Arthur tutting about him not taking odd 'that silly plaster of yours, oh by the way my Queen totally owns your country'. I mean, what on Earth is with that plaster business?)
Oh, come off it, Steve! It's just one sentence and it was just seconds wasted in getting to play in the snow!
"To be honest, I actually did kinda ask around for your name. This one chick I asked went all spaz-o at me and tried to kill me with a knife and shouting nonsense about me touching 'her Vanya'. Uh, I'm guessing that's you? But this other guy seemed a bit more, you know, sane, and he was full trembling and all that but he told me anyway that your name was Ivan, so I asked the shorter kid that was trembling even more than him and he said so too, then this one guy full freaks and is like, 'don't go around telling people' but personally I think he was just jealous 'cause they were bein' full harry and that about knowin' yer name, and..."
Steve winced. That was like, an entire essay!
"...I'll shut up now."
Ivan only looked amused at the Australian's random rant. So Steve had known a bit about him after all? He thought for sure that Steve's knowledge of his existence only extended to brief glances during meetings and whatnot, but it appeared that Steve had known more. How precious, asking around to know more about him! But, ah, Ivan shouldn't get too clingy. Last time he made a friend, which happened to be a snow white rabbit (Ivan had stooped to new lows that year), he found it dead in his tight embrace. He looked up at Steve and inwardly shuddered. Being a corpse would not fit the Aussie, especially frothing from the mouth and with his ribs broken in.
"No doubt it was little Литва that told you, да? Ah, and Ваня is a... what is it again? Somehow, English is becoming harder to grasp. It is a nickname, да? A term of affection. I suppose it would only be a little strange if you used it?"
"Yeah, well, if I used Vanya," here Ivan could not help but smile a little, "you'd have to call me a nickname too, right? Well, you can't really shorten Steve... well, I guess a nickname would be Stev-o but even I think that's a bit weird if anyone said it at all. Anyway, I thought Japan said something like people who a real close don't shorten names or add stuff onto it at all?"
Ivan soured a bit at the mention of the Asian nation, but instantly brightened from hearing this. It was true, though. Kiku once commented that getting into first-name basis without using any suffixes such as -kun or -san was too personal for him (and, if he recalled correctly, it was in a rather hushed conversation with Heracles. Kiku wasn't fooling anyone.)
"We will use only our names. Nicknames only complicate the matter, да?"
"Yeah, yeah, da, da, c'mon, enough with all this girl talk, seriously. Game on!"
"Game... on?"
Before Ivan could properly ask what he meant, he sensed something steadily approaching. He turned, and before he could so much as utter, 'hi, I'm Ivan, who're you?' something wet and hard hit him in the face. Three guesses as to what it was; the first two guesses don't count, and neither does the last one if it's Francis-related.
Steve bust a gut laughing, but Ivan only stared at him confusedly. What did he expect him to do? After all, he had just thrown a pile of snow at his face. Was it a declaration of war? Steve did not really want to fight him, did he?
An awkward moment later, Steve finally managed to control his laughter, it having died down into soundless wheezes before silence huffed at the rude interruption and continued on its merry old way, short-lived as it was when the few birds perched on the roof of Ivan's house tittered nervously in an attempt to drown the awkward tension.
"Uh... you're supposed to throw a snowball back."
Ivan stood uncomprehending.
"Y'know? Snowball fights? When you play in teams - or twos, I guess in this case - and throw snowballs at each other? I think there are different kinds a' rules, but let's just say that whoever can land the most hits on the other person wins. Man, I thought you were supposed to be like an expert on this stuff? I've never done this before but you make me feel as if I know more about this than you do."
Ivan decided to forgive those ending statements as he suddenly recalled a happier memory of his childhood.
"Ah, да, да! I recall having played a game similar to this with my sisters! I have not played this in a long time! Ah, well, I did something similar in WWII to drive back Германия - ah, this whole time I have been using their Russian names, forgive me - Germany but he could not really fight back... oh, well, admittedly, I also did this with... er, Amerika, but it was less for fun than to kill each other-"
"Alright buddy," Steve interrupted, heaving a relieved sigh when Ivan actually stopped and looked at him. Lord only knows how long that could have gone on for...
"The trip down memory lane can wait. The snow can't."
"But the snow lasts for months-"
"-but I'm only going to be here for today, okay? Maybe you can tell me after we play or at New Year's, but now it's time for a snowball fight! So get ready! 3... 2..."
Ivan panicked. They were already going to start? He wasn't ready! Hurriedly, he scanned the area for something to hide behind. Weren't they supposed to make forts or something first? Who was keeping count of who hit each other, anyway? Ah! There's a tree! For a moment, Ivan wondered if he ever had a tree in his front yard in the first place, but no matter. Surely all his thoughts had to be longer than a single second! Covering his face, he gingerly peered thorugh the cracks between his fingers to look at Steve, who had bent down to get some snow.
Screw hiding behind that tree! Like it would've fit him anyway! Scooping up a pile of snow, he clumsily shaped it into the closest semblance of a ball he could manage and didn't even bother to try and aim as he threw it at Steve; rather, the general direction of, as the ball landed some three feet away from the brunet. Despite the ball not landing on him, the sheer force behind it made him shriek and drop his snowball. Steve glared at him but Ivan was too busy laughing to notice.
"Oh, it's on, now!"
Steve picked up some snow and, not even bothering to try and shape it into a ball, hurled it at Ivan, who, still laughing, still managed to dodge it as it sailed past to collide with the tree. Ivan was still laughing too hard to even make a ball and instead kept running to avoid the onslaught of snowballs. Steve managed to peg a snowball at Ivan's rear, and before he could even gasp Ivan had turned an icy smile to the brunet and cheerfully threw a snowball at his crotch.
"Fffffffuuuuuuu-" Steve all but screamed, clutching at his groin, "-dging heck!"
He might not have felt the cold of the ice, but he certainly felt the force behind it. Was Ivan trying to kill him? He wouldn't be able to walk straight for days! But he had to! He raised his head up to glare at Ivan, who giggled innocently. He was so not letting the stupid Russian get away with that!
Bellowing something akin to a war cry, Steve sprang back up, almost tripping over the excesses of his (well, Ivan's) pants in the process. This time, he didn't even bother to pile up snow. No, snow couldn't properly express his anger, nor would it do the job satisfactorily.
Instead, Steve flung himself across the yard and spear tackled Ivan.
The two, a mess of tangled limbs, landed in the snow with an audible thud, the two rolling around in a small struggle before finally stopping, Steve ending up straddling the Russian beneath him. Ivan's cheeks were stained pink, still breathless from the fall, soundless laughter spilling out of his frosted lips.
For a second, all was still. All was silent. Steve suddenly found it harder to breathe, but he knew it wasn't from the fall. His heart felt like it was running a marathon to get away from him, his brain having lost control of his body. At meetings, Ivan always smiled and all that, but never did they seem as entirely genuine as the smile Ivan wore now, and never had he seen it so close. He couldn't tear his eyes away, staring mindlessly at the man below him. He wanted himself to stop being so transfixed, but at the same time he never wanted the moment to end. Since when had Steve become such a crazy old sap? And why, at that moment, did the Aussie feel like his feelings for the silver-haired man extended to something beyond friendship? He was only fooling himself if he said they were some sort of paternal instincts.
Silence had been present for some time now, but Time finally decided that the world was not big enough for the two of them and kicked Silence's ass out of the way in order to keep on going. The sounds of laughter finally spilled from Ivan's lips, the amethyst-eyed man having regained his breath in Steve's moment of timelessness. He looked about ready to cry with how much he was laughing, his eyes screwed shut as if her were being relentlessly tickled and Steve found it hard to keep a straight face.
The two ended up laughing together on the ground, the snowball fight forgotten.
By the time the two finally stopped laughing, the sun had sunk just a little lower in the sky and the two had quite forgotten why they were laughing in the first place. Well, at least Ivan had, forgetting even what he was doing outside and what exactly Steve was doing on top of him. What exactly Steve was doing shaking on top of him. It was rather embarrassing and it felt really awkward, but then again, wasn't the Australian looking a bit pale?
"Боже мой!"
The Russian suddenly shot up from the snow, toppling over a thoroughly startled Steve in the process. He grasped the shorter man's trembling hands in his own and pulled the Aussie off the ground.
"You are not wearing any gloves! How in the world did you pick up snow without freezing your hands off? You have to go inside!"
"Oh. Uh. Well, y'know. Excited and all that. Why wear gloves when you could use your bare hands?"
Ivan barely resisted the urge to face palm.
"Anyway, what about you! You're-"
Steve looked at the Russian's hands to support his argument, but they laughed at him, snuggled in cozy black gloves. Now his entire case was down the drain! Hello, Christmas day sentence indoors. Who the heck judged these things, anyway?
"-wearing gloves," Steve finished lamely, pouting. That his bottom lip was trembling and was making him look adorable made Ivan consider letting him play a little longer, but then again, his lip was trembling and blue…
"Maybe later we will go outside again," Ivan decided, "but only after you have warmed up and have gotten a pair of gloves. It would… ah, suck to be sick on Christmas and New Year's."
Still, the Australian was staring up at him defiantly, and for a second Ivan thought that he would have to drag the Aussie inside before finally the brunet sighed and conceded, "Fine."
Ivan smiled slightly, and, his hand still holding the other's, led the Australian inside. Steve was a bit amused at this reversal of roles. What must have been at least an hour ago, he was dragging the Russian out of his own house by hand and now Ivan was doing the same, except dragging him into the house. Well, of course Steve knew that he had been holding Ivan's hand, no matter what the Russian must have been thinking. It wasn't like he was an idiot, or something. I mean, sometimes, he could be obnoxious but he was being totally well behaved up until now, right? Steve had initially grabbed Ivan's hand for its warmth and, in hindsight, should have tipped him off about his hands' bareness, but his obliviousness, to a further extent than his obnoxiousness, could not be controlled.
…wait a second! Ivan was holding his hand!
"…!"
Ivan came to a sudden stop, leaving the Batman on Steve's nose to mutter about the indignity of it all. Then again, it could have been Steve, but the Aussie didn't get to ask as a heavy, freezing hand clamped itself over his mouth. He almost screamed (a manly scream that would shame even the most testosterone-pumped males of the Universe, mind you), but Ivan motioned him to shush, and who was Steve to deny him when he was wearing such a frightening expression? Then, turning away from the Australian, he placed his ear slowly against the door. His grip having slackened, Steve irritably pulled the Russian's hand off and also listened carefully at the door. Vaguely, he could make out sounds of… bouncing?
Before Ivan could even raise his hand to grasp the doorknob, the door was slammed open from inside. Ivan actually screeched, and Steve would have laughed at him if not for the fact that he too had screamed and both of their noses had very nearly been taken off.
"Моя сестра?"
Standing in the doorway in all of her Ukrainian glory was none other than Ivan's older sister, Yekaterina. A flash of recognition lit her eyes as she smiled, eyes set on the still shell-shocked Steve.
"You are the man that asked me for directions! I did not know that you were Australia! I thought I recognized you, but I was not sure! I am Ukraine!"
Steve finally decided to get over his shock and beamed. Of course! She was Ivan's sister! How could he have not recognized her before, what with her vast tracts of…
Out of the corner of his eye, Steve thought he saw something morbidly shiny and akin to a pipe flash before his eyes, a sliver of angry violet reflected in the metal. Ivan was glaring at him, wasn't he? If he tried to look into his eyes directly, surely he'd turn to stone. Not wanting to take any chances, the Aussie quickly averted his eyes.
"Anyway," Ivan cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure and failing miserably, "what are you doing here, сестра?"
Immediately, Yekaterina looked hurt, tears welling up in her eyes and in that moment Ivan had the most panicked expression Steve had ever seen on him. If Steve hadn't known better, he would've thought that Ivan was weak against his sister…
"Do you not want me here, брат? I-I am sorry, I should have asked first, maybe I should leave!"
If Ivan looked panicked before, now he was suffering some kind of aneurysm or coronary, or perhaps both. Not that Steve could really blame him; he was totally freaking and he barely knew the Ukrainian. Yekaterina wasn't even trying to hold back her tears, she just let them pour like the Niagara Falls, being just as overwhelming.
"Нет!" Ivan quickly protested. If Yekaterina tried to leave now, he might not see her until the next meeting, or maybe even until the next Christmas! Did she really not want to be here? "I-It is not that, моя дорогая сестра! I-I was just surprised, that is all! As you said, you had not mentioned this to me previously! Please, stay!"
"Y-Yeah, the more the merrier!"
"See! Even Steve would like you to stay! Please! Spend Christmas with us!"
Yekaterina sniffed, wiping away a tear with a delicate finger before giving a small smile.
"O-Oh, I suppose. If you two really want me to, I can not say no! I am sorry, брат, I will warn you next time."
Ivan only released a relieved sigh, his smile a tad more tired. Steve couldn't help but wonder, was she doing this on purpose? Maybe she was secretly a sadist, liking to watch Ivan get all troubled and panicked and stuff, or as Kiku once described Ivan, 'yandere'. Two siblings, yandere siblings. He shuddered to think what Ivan's other sister was like, and from all that he'd heard of her, she was not good. He looked to Yekaterina, but she showed no signs of insincerity or maliciousness. Maybe she was good at hiding it?
"Well, I was not sure what to think of your relationship at the meeting, but now it seems like you two are good friends. I am glad," Yekaterina smiled, but the two men noticed that she had become even meeker, if even possible. She was being very subtle about it, but she was trying to drift away from the subject.
"Сестра … what are you hiding?" Ivan questioned nervously, eyeing his sister's fidgeting fingers. With a small squeak, Yekaterina ripped her hands away from view. The Russian looked at Steve, his gaze somewhat dubious, and Steve could only think, 'at least I'm not the only one with a sense of impending doom'.
"Ah, well…"
The men held their breath.
"…I thought that I should bring our, ah, little sister along. She wants to see you, Ваня."
Ivan bolted for the door faster than Vash's machine guns, and out of reflex and subconscious dread (not that he was frightened or anything, nope) Steve ran with him. Yekaterina seemed to have predicted this, however, and grabbed the end of Ivan's scarf, effectively bringing the giant down. Desperately, he looked up pathetically at Steve, his expression on that the Devil could not ignore. Steve only gave him a sympathetic look back.
'Nice knowin' ya, mate.'
"Please, брат, we go through this every time!" Yekaterina pleaded, but Ivan had deformed into some kind of robot caterpillar with dying batteries whose only objective was to get out the door at all costs. From his impression of the Russian at the meetings, Steve never would have expected him to be able to act so pathetic. It was rather comical, really, but it was so pathetic than when the Aussie tried to smile reassuringly, it came out as a grimace.
"It is Christmas, Ваня! Please, all these years, Natalya has been feeling so lonely, spending Christmas by herself! She even has a present for you; she made it, even though she is so sick. Please, give her a chance!"
For one (miraculous) moment, Ivan actually considered it. He had never thought of his sister being lonely during the last days of the year. He felt a tinge of guilt. Of course he knew what it was like to be alone for Christmas; he would never dream of making anyone feel the same. No one deserved to be alone for Christmas.
Then Ivan's moment ended and he concluded that he had gone mad. He made a break for the door.
What he didn't expect was Steve to be blocking the door. Steve was supposed to be his friend, the traitor! He was, no doubt, Natalya's accomplice all along! Betrayed, he glared at the Aussie and huffed childishly.
Right. So Ivan threw tantrums. Steve only smiled.
"It would suck to be sick on Christmas and New Year's, eh?"
To Ivan, Steve's smile looked like a devilish smirk. Using his own words against him – how devious! Ivan bit his lip. He could not believe that he was even entertaining the idea of being in the same building as his psychopath of a sister. It was preposterous! But, it was also Christmas, wasn't it? Shouldn't he have the Christmas spirit and all that? Not to mention, Natalya was sick, so she should be harmless, right? And if he left, she would be lonely again. This year, Ivan had the good fortune of spending Christmas with friends and family, and like Steve said, the more the merrier, right?
Ivan sighed. He would so regret this later.
"…да. Да, it would. I will stay, then."
Yekaterina's smile melted ice caps. They also melted the snow in Russia, it seemed, as Ivan's expression softened. Man, he totally had a soft spot for his sister. Steve found it hard not to smile too.
"Great! You will not regret this, Ваня! I brought you both gifts."
Steve's lips curled into a delighted grin, color returning to his cheeks.
"Really? Even for me?"
"Yes, of course! I knew you were coming. And it is alright that I do not receive presents. I came unexpected, and Christmas usually is not celebrated on this day," she added, taking in both Steve and Ivan's guilty expressions. They quickly brightened up though, Ivan secretly planning on getting his sister a better present.
"Oh, and, um, maybe this is not good to mention, but there is mistletoe above your heads. Наталя insisted I put it there, but she became tired and could not wait by the door," Yekaterina suddenly turned and said, before skipping out of the hallway into one of the rooms.
Ivan didn't move. He didn't even try to look up to confirm his sister's words. (It wasn't as if he had to – the mistletoe was practically hanging in his face.) Curse the one who cam up with this crazy tradition. Now he had to kiss someone! Wait… he had to kiss Steve. He felt as if his blood were draining away but at the same time he was on fire. Did the tradition apply to two males? But they were friends, right? That should mean it's alright to kiss and they didn't necessarily have feelings for each other. But at the same time, they were friends, so wouldn't kissing make their friendship awkward and make it seem as if they had feelings for each other?
Why was the concept so complicated? It shouldn't even matter; a kiss is a form of greeting in Russia! Wasn't it normal between friends? But then again, this was Steve… why was he making such a big deal over whether it was Steve or not that he had to kiss? It wasn't like he had a reason to. He was acting as if he had the hots for him or something…
…oh boy, he was in trouble.
Steve, on the other hand, was more worried about Ivan being frozen to the spot forever than some stupid kiss. Christmas spirit and all that, right? It was something that was going to pass, so why not have fun with it while it lasted? Ivan rooting himself to the spot for eternity was not something that was going to pass, though, so he had to stop him before he tried. He looked as though he wasn't even breathing anymore…
So, fast enough to give a cheetah a concussion and to start a big bang, fast enough so that Ivan didn't realize until after it happened, Steve pecked him on the lips real quick.
The Russian barely felt it, the only evidence being the slight moisture still lingering and the foreign warmth that suddenly felt scalding as he realized what had just happened. His face decided that imitating a tomato would be an appropriate reaction of embarrassment, but his heart suddenly tightened with… disappointment? No, no, why would he be disappointed? He couldn't have expected more, had he? His mind felt like it was screaming, 'do it again, this time I'm prepared!' but his body couldn't follow and instead decided to stare blankly at the Aussie, who was unaware of his inner turmoil.
Steve took Ivan's staring as a good sign so he beamed, laughing triumphantly as he patted the taller man on the back.
"There, that wasn't so hard, was it?"
Ivan continued to imitate a zombie. Steve thought that this was a perfectly appropriate reaction and his smile did not falter.
"C'mon, let's go! Presents won't wait forever, y'know!"
Suddenly, Steve's hands grabbed Ivan's own, and it was enough to shake the Russian out of his trance as he again found himself being dragged into the room Yekaterina disappeared into.
And suddenly, he wished he could slap reality in the face and go back into his cardboard box of denial.
"Hello, брат."
Ivan took a step behind Steve. He was not cowering. This was his little sister! Who could be afraid of their little sister? Certainly not the Great Russian Federation! She could not possibly hurt him!
"…h-hello, моя сестра."
Ivan winced at the tremor in his voice. He looked up properly at Natalya, albeit somewhat reluctantly. She seemed to have smiled a little, but a sudden coughing fit seized her before he could confirm it. She really did look sick; her skin was of a deathly pallor, perhaps even whiter than that of Gilbert, and dark rings circled her dimmed eyes. Were her country's problems finally taking a toll on her physically? In a way, he was surprised; he had not seen her so sick in a very long time! It had been an equally long time since he pitied her, too, or held a proper conversation with her.
Natalya pushed her chair back and stood, ignoring Yekaterina's frantic insistence for her to remain seated. Weakly pushing back her sister with one hand and hiding a cough with the other, Natalya took a few steps toward Ivan before stopping at least a yard shy. Now Ivan was really worried! Usually, she would not pass up the chance to cling to him! Was she so sick that she couldn't even stand next to him? Tentatively, he took a step forward.
"I had wanted… to give you a ring… as a present, so that we could get married married MARRIED…"
Barely concealing a whimper, he retracted his step. So she wasn't sick enough to ditch the one-sided marriage/slavery plan. Judging from the thoroughly disturbed look on Steve's face, the man was willing to ditch any sort of plan if it meant getting away from Ivan's sister. Ivan found that he could not blame him.
"…but it would not do to have the bride a dirty mess at the wedding. Nor do I want you to become sick, too."
Momentarily, Ivan wondered if nations could catch colds from each other in such a fashion, but then again, one poor country trying to marry another poor country…
"I decided that the wedding would have to wait. It was a terrible shame. Instead, I want to give you this, Мой дарагі брат. Merry Christmas."
In a somewhat meek manner (since when could the word 'meek' be applied to his little sister…?) Natalya approached Ivan and had in her gloved hands a bundle of fabric. Still casting wary glances at Natalya, whose only lapse in expression was to cough and sneeze, he picked it up with one hand.
His eyebrows raised in surprise. So it wasn't just fabric! Ivan found instead that it was a knitted scarf of a somewhat hideous shade of green and of amateur quality.
"I taught her how to knit it," Yekaterina added in, smiling.
Natalya's blue eyes were ever so hopeful, and Ivan found himself unable to muster anything less than a smile.
"…спасибо, моя красивая сестра. Merry Christmas. Forgive me, but I could not find a gift for you in time for your arrival."
Natalya's cheeks pinked, but then again, it could've been the cold acting up.
"It is alright, брат. Being here with you is enough."
Maybe Ivan would be able to get through this. If Natalya was docile enough for the rest of the day, maybe he'd actually get away unscathed! Not to mention Steve getting away without being traumatized forever (although it may be a bit too late for that). Then again, what was that business with Murphy and stuff? If something can go wrong, it will?
Ivan made a note to curse that law as he noticed, with a steadily increasing unease, that Natalya had been staring at Steve for some time now, her gaze flickering between the two of them. Oh no, was she going to start asking questions? And just as he thought he'd get away scot-free! As he thought, wishing and hoping got him nowhere!
"…брат," Natalya began, and Ivan's stomach sank, preparing for the worst. "Why, pray tell, is he holding your hand and wearing your clothes?"
Well. That could have been a lot worse. No, wait a second! Ivan looked at his hand, then up at Steve, but the Aussie was just as surprised as he was. How in the world did he move around without being conscious of their entangled hands? It was too late to dwell on that, he had to fix the situation before Natalya got the wrong idea! There were already some unfortunate implications to the clothing!
Wait… Ivan noticed the window from his peripheral vision, his eyes unable to tear its focus from Natalya. What if she saw them outside? She would not be pleased! She gave hell to anyone that she thought was close to him! Little Toris may deny it all he wants, but Natalya went as far as to break all his fingers when she discovered he was close to her brother!
Then, the only way to stop her from trying to hurt Steve was to pretend they weren't close…!
"Ah, this is…!" Ivan floundered, hastily dropping the Australian's hand and holding his own hands up as if to defend himself. He wrapped the green scarf around his neck despite already wearing one in a desperate attempt to appease Natalya.
"Y-You see, Steve has neglected to bring gloves. His hands w-were terribly cold; I could only warm them up with my own! Not only this, he neglected to wear appropriate clothing to the weather! I had no choice to but lend him clothes!"
Subtly, he shuffled a little more away from the Aussie. Natalya looked less than impressed by his flimsy explanation.
"I may be sick, брат, but I am quite capable of using my eyes. My eyesight may be hazy, but you two playing outside was quite as clear as day," Natalya said. For a brief second, her eyes widened, as if coming to a realization, before narrowing.
"…you are close enough to use your human names?"
Drat. He had slipped up. Ivan didn't allow himself to react visibly, instead putting more distance between himself and the brunet. Steve, however, seemed to have caught on, and was trying to move closer to him with a frown on his face. Why did the boy choose to be just a bit sharper at this moment, and why not choose to be sharp enough to realize that the Russian was trying to protect him? Oh, if Ivan had the power of telepathy! Then, he could project the memories of what happened to the last person that was believed to be closer than a subordinate to him! (Although, it certainly wouldn't help his goal to get away with both his and Steve's sanity intact…)
"…Наташа," Ivan started slowly, and Natalya perked up at the nickname, but remained vigilant. His plan had backfired, and instead of lowering her guard, Natalya was even more suspicious. Even she was aware that he'd never call her by that name unless something was up.
"Steve was just excited since it was the first time he had seen so much snow. I admit I, too, was overwhelmed. It has been such a long time since I had played with you in the snow. I had forgotten what it was like."
Natalya's eyes softened. Ivan repressed a smirk and inwardly did a victory dance. Then her eyes hardened and Ivan felt like crying.
"Брат, no amount of excuses can ever explain why you are using his human name," Natalya said, enunciating every word. Ivan suddenly realized that he had yet again referred to Steve by name, and resisted slapping himself. "Unless…
"You two are more than just friends?"
Already, Ivan could see her tightening her fists in barely controlled rage, and while Steve was turning red enough to put Yekaterina's borsch to shame, Ivan felt himself going the color of Natalya's whitening knuckles. If he opened his mouth now, surely, he'd only be digging a deeper grave for Steve and himself. His gaze found Yekaterina's, and with a flash of understanding, she spoke up.
"Ah, I forgot to give this to you," she said to Steve, the curve of her brow only slightly betraying her smile. She masked her nervousness with a laugh. "I never imagined that these would be so convenient, but I am glad that I made them."
"Made them?" Steve inquires, tearing his eyes away from Natalya and Ivan to look directly at their older sister. He had to admit, he was a little interested… okay, screw a little, a present is a present, and, well, darn if that small patch of awkward was going to stop him from getting presents!
"I did not know how big your hands are, so they may be a bit big," Yekaterina smiled apologetically, before placing a pair of gloves in the Australian's hands. Like Natalya's gift, it was hand-knitted, but it was done much more professionally. Yekaterina was right; it looked as if she had made the gloves to fit Ivan! The only thing proving it was for him was the dainty little ribbon with a cord hanging off it, on which was clearly imprinted, "Merry Christmas, Australia!"
"Thanks!"
Steve grinned, before slipping the ribbon off and placing the gloves contentedly. When he made no move to try and get closer to Ivan, Natalya's grip loosened, finding it satisfactory evidence for the very first argument. She still, however, did not look pleased. Using their human names was Ivan's biggest mistake. Natalya was right; he could justify all of his actions except the use of their names. Heaven forbid she found out about the mistletoe, but it was already implied in that the walked through the front door with their hands clasped together. Yekaterina was obviously not about to tell her about it, though, so maybe Natalya would overlook it…
"Oh, and Ваня," Yekaterina addressed Ivan, who turned to her, surprised.
"I have a gift for you too, of course! I know you like sunflowers, but I wanted to give you something different this year. Merry Christmas, Ваня!"
Yekaterina held up her hands and reflexively, Ivan held up his own (he was beginning to feel rather like a dog, trying to shake hands and paw and striving for his master's affection…). When he looked back at his hands, he found a bundle of sunflower seeds. Suddenly, he felt his lunch rise back up with a vengeance. Damn that enticing maple syrup.
"Моя сестра," Ivan said nervously, face pale, "you do not expect me to eat these, do you…?"
"What? Oh, good heavens, no!" Yekaterina gasped, looking stricken at how Ivan had even dared think that. She knew how much he loved them! She'd never try to make him do such a thing on purpose!
"I want you to grow them."
"But I will end up with sunflowers anyway. It will be the same as if you gave me sunflowers as a gift."
"No, it is not the same, брат. I am giving you the opportunity to grow sunflowers. Perhaps not right now, but when the weather becomes warmer. Surely, if you tried, you could even grow a sunflower field!"
Ivan wondered why she mentioned specifically a sunflower field. Did she know about his dream? If that was the case, then that meant that Toris had mentioned it to her. He'd have to visit little Toris later and have a little talk…
He looked back at the sunflower seeds in his hand. He would grow his own sunflowers? Of course he had considered it before, but always found reason not to actually do it, never even trying to buy the seeds. But here they were in his hands. Now, he felt as if all of the concerns he had before were trivial; that in reality, all that was holding him back was his own fears.
But what was he afraid of? Of being happy? Was wanting to be happy a selfish act?
'I… don't think you're selfish.'
'Everyone wishes… for that sort of thing. It doesn't make you any more selfish than anyone else.'
Ivan felt a little bit better about himself.
"Yeah, mate! And if it gets too cold, I could help you out, eh?" Steve laughed, slapping the man on the back. Ah, now Ivan remembered. Some of his main concerns were that the sunflowers would not withstand the cold, and that he would not be able to take care of the flowers himself. But with a little help, surely, he could overcome that?
"…thank you, Катюша. Steve. Merry Christmas."
Natalya narrowed her eyes at the exchange.
"It would seem that, perhaps, my assumptions were correct."
Ivan blanched. Steve had already forgotten what Natalya was talking about. He probably thought that the truth was that they were only friends, so it shouldn't matter what she says. Yet, it didn't matter what the truth was; as long as she didn't believe it and thought otherwise, then she would most definitely try to harm the Australian, and pursue Ivan more obsessively than ever before. Even if she believes the truth, it would be bad. Not only would she be angry that he lied, lover, friend, rival… as long as they were connected to Ivan and wasn't his sister, Natalya hated them all!
Just making it seem as if they weren't closer than friends wasn't good enough. He had to make it seem as if they weren't friends at all.
"Н-Наташа, don't be silly," Ivan stuttered, and almost winced when Natalya's knuckles cracked in her fists. Maybe using her nickname was a bad idea after all.
"I do not believe that using human names gives evidence for relationships closer than friends. Prussia uses the human name of Austria and vice versa."
Ivan pointedly ignored that Gilbert had been caught sucking face with the Austrian only a few weeks ago, confident that Natalya did not know of it. It turned out that he had also been ignoring another important fact.
"Prussia is no longer a country; Austria would not use his country name. Therefore, Prussia is an exception. Between nations, only people closer than friends would use human names."
Ivan cringed. He had not thought of that, and was now wracking his brains for another excuse.
"Very well, Наталя. But, моя сестра, if human names are used between people who are close, it can also be used by people who are wanting to build a closer relationship."
Natalya's growl told him that was the wrong thing to say.
"W-What I mean is, моя сестра, our bosses proposed the idea of using human names in order to get closer."
"Oh?" Natalya raised a brow, buying into the lie. Steve opened his mouth to try and protest, but Ivan kept talking.
"Trading is, ah, going well between out countries. Our bosses are hoping that such things will improve if our relations improve, and so here we are. They coerced us into spending Christmas together, да?"
Ivan looked at Steve as if looking for support, but the moment Steve locked eyes with him, he looked away. They both knew that what he said was bullshit. They weren't even major trading partners! Just what was Ivan trying to pull? Was this whole friend thing some kind of farce all along? Was he really just trying to manipulate him or something? He couldn't put it past him; he'd heard that the Russian had done it to other nations before. But why would he? No, he trusted him. They were definitely friends. But why would he try to hide that? Sometimes, Steve cursed at his own obliviousness and inability to pay attention at the right times, and this was one of those times.
He took a step towards the Russian, but Ivan turned his back to him and stepped away.
It stung.
He just couldn't understand. One second, the guy was all friendly with him, and in the next second, he was totally snubbing him. Until just now, he hadn't been this moody. It didn't add up. What was going on?
"Y-Yeah."
Natalya just stared at the two. Yekaterina, feeling awkward and tense, blabbered on about dinner and hurried away to the kitchen. The two men stood still. Natalya dropped the subject, satisfied, and sat back down somewhat smugly in her seat. Ivan should have felt like he had won. Natalya did not think that he and Steve were friends, so she wouldn't hurt him. That was good, wasn't it? Yet it felt like he had just made a fatal mistake. Suddenly, the two felt like strangers. He knew it was his fault. He regretted it, but at the same time, he didn't. It was all so wrong. Ivan could not have Steve as a friend because so many people hated him; they thought that Ivan would only manipulate him, that he would only hurt him. He could not speak of their friendship because his own sister was against it. In order to keep his friendship, he had to pretend they weren't friends. But Steve himself said that they were friends, and that's what mattered, right?
Blue eyes, wet with anger and yet scalding in its intensity stared at him through the twisted frames of broken glasses, burning clearly in his mind as if they were right in front of him.
'Friends don't betray each other.'
He gripped his chest tightly.
"You two, sit down! I made food!"
The meal was quiet and awkward. When Natalya was not eating, she was coughing or drinking water. Yekaterina tried to initiate a conversation several times, often with Steve and Ivan, but they never lasted longer than four exchanges. Ivan wanted to ask so much about Steve, wanted to tell Yekaterina how he had a new friend, but couldn't, for Natalya's gaze was heavy on him. If he did not say something now, to Steve or his sisters, he may never get the chance to. There was no telling when he could meet his sisters again. And what if Steve did not believe they were friends? What if he didn't want the Russian to come over for New Year's anymore? It would be terrible! How much he just wanted to reach over and grab the Australian by the shoulders, tell him that it was all a misunderstanding, it was for him, and he just wanted to ravage him-
…where in the world had that come from? It must have been from France. Shaking his head, he turned to Yekaterina and asked how her economy was going.
When Steve was sure that the Russian was not looking, he looked up and stared. He was still confused, and it annoyed him. Why had Ivan acted like he did? He felt as if the answer was so obvious, it was right in front of him but he just could not grasp it. His mind refused to grasp it. It was in some kind of lockdown mode, repeating over and over in his head, 'he's not your friend; he doesn't want to be your friend'. At this rate, his brain was going to stay in a permanent stasis. It was as if he was so stuck on thinking that they were no longer friends that he didn't have enough free thought left over to figure out why. Maybe, was it his own fault? Had he done something to provoke the other man? Maybe it was the mistletoe…
Nobody noticed Natalya observing them, too engrossed in their own thoughts and conversation.
Darkness finally began to seep into the sky, chasing the light away. The moon had already risen by the time the quartet noticed, and yawned lazily as if to show them just how late it was getting.
"Well, I had a fun time!" Yekaterina smiled, shuddering a little at a chilly breeze that swept across, pulling her snow white scarf closer to herself. Next to her, Natalya was also shivering, but stubbornly kept silent despite how sick she was.
"Sometimes, I wonder why we do not do this more often!"
"…I suppose," Ivan mustered a small smile, leaning against the doorframe. His sisters had rushed outside the moment they saw how dark it was. They probably had to catch their plane. At this point, he really couldn't remember why they never spent much time together. Did they ever really have a reason? Once upon a time, they were almost inseparable. He couldn't remember when it had changed.
"I hope this is not too much to ask for, but Наталя would like to spend New Year's with you. Is it too much trouble?"
Then again, remember that saying? The ones who don't miss the Soviet Union are heartless, and the ones who want it back are brainless? The same could be said for this situation. He was not about to glue Natalya to his side again!
Ivan felt something softly thump him over the head and he turned around to find Steve, hands in his coat pockets and shuffling his feet together.
"Heya, big guy, I better get goin' too. Give your sister a chance, eh? Seeing off the old year with your family and all that."
"But what about-"
"It's alright mate, you should spend it with your sister," Steve smiled, but no matter how the Russian looked at his smile, it only appeared sad. Ivan felt a small pang in his chest.
Before he could even get a word in edgeways, Steve had stepped outside into the snow and waved goodbye without another word.
"So it would be no trouble?"
"…not at all," Ivan answered, thoughts still trained on the Australian. Just then, it seemed as if he had missed something important. Shaking his head out of his thoughts, he looked at his sisters properly and smiled as best as he could through his confusion. "I will see you on New Year's."
Natalya's eyes widened slightly at his compliance, before her lips curled upwards ever so slightly. She nodded, and they all waved goodbye as the two women walked off.
Ivan stared at their retreating backs until they were out of sight, and with a sigh, turned, and closed the door gently behind him.
And once again, Ivan found himself alone in his large, empty house.
This is a lot longer than it deserves to be and a lot later than it's supposed to be because WELL HAHAHA IT'S UH KINDA SUPPOSED TO BE POSTED AT NEW YEAR'S? A-Anyway if I make it for Chinese New Year's it's okay right? RIGHT?
Also, I'm sorry that I haven't been updating Britannia Angel. I probably won't update until I finish this. Britannia Angel only has about two chapters left. It's getting harder and harder for me to write it because my muse for USUK is totally running out :/ Soooo if you actually bothered to read to the end of this lame chapter send in links of fanart of USUK to inspire me pleeeeeasee? :D I m-may update faster, I'm sorry it's been 2 months...
Thanks for reading :D
And just so you know... no, not all Australians are this nice BUT MOST OF US ARE
Anyway, here's the Russian translations (I am proud to say I did not use translator for the Russian but I did for the Belarusian...) (sorry they aren't in order...):
да - yes
Наталя - Natalya
моя сестра - my sister
Наташа - Natasha (nickname of Natalya)
Катюша - Katyusha (nickname of Yekaterina)
брат - brother
Ваня - Vanya (nickname of Ivan)
Мой дарагі брат - Belarusian for 'my dear brother'
Беларусь - Belarus
Красивая - beautiful
колколкол - kolkolkol
Америка - America
другь - friend
Нет - no
Россия - Russia
Финляндия - Finland
Швеция - Sweden
Да. Спасибо, мой другь - Yes. Thank you, my friend
Всё хорошо - all is well
Доброе утро, мой другь - Good morning, my friend
Матвей - Matvey (Matthew)
говно́ - equivalent of shit?
товарищ - comrade
мой другь - my friend
Литва - Lithuania
Германия - Germany
Боже мой - My Goodness! (or something to this effect)