I own no characters mentioned, nor the idea of personified nations.
This is a Liet/Pol, taking place after Lithuania was freed from Russia control following WW1. (Lithuania was under Russian control from 1795 until 1918). I doubt Ivan let them see each other.
My attempt was to write this in a way that it could be taken as either one's POV. Hopefully it worked. Warnings for boys kissing.
In Your Arms Again
It was snowing out, the cold chill of winter bearing down, when he finally saw him again. There he was, across the room, for the first time in ages. Green eyes met green after so long, and they both jerked. He paused mid-step, hand already reaching out - the other had stopped as well. Fear and uncertainty coursed through his veins now, along with the pangs of loneliness that had settled in so long ago. He gathered his feet back under him and focused on his toes.
The room was quiet as they stole glances at each other, ducking their eyes down if they happened to meet. Why was he so hesitant now? They hadn't been this shy since they first met, all those years ago. Their friendship, their Commonwealth and marriage, their love, their separation. The reunion should have been more than stolen glances and unsure hearts.
He bit his lip, watching as the other moved a stray lock of hair away from his face. He looked the same, yet so different. What if he didn't want him back? What if he had moved on and he didn't matter anymore? It had always been a fear, but now as he watched him across the room, it seemed to be coming true.
They both startled as the American sighed. They were not alone, and this reunion could be stopped if they didn't hurry up. But how could he make a move towards the other when he had no idea if he wanted him back? The other looked just as confused and uncertain. Was he afraid he was unwanted as well? Did he ever think they would not be able to read each other? He felt the sting of tears and his knees weakened.
The Brit softly cleared his throat. "Maybe..."
"NO!" He wasn't sure which of them had yelled, possibly both, but they were heading towards each other before he realized he had no idea what England was actually going to say. They had each assumed the worst. Hands outstretched, they would not be separated again.
They met with a "huff" as they collided and sank to the ground in a tangle of limbs. Hands carded through hair and gripped clothing as lips pressed butterfly kisses on whatever skin they found. Tears coursed down their cheeks as murmurs of "Liet" and "Po", old childhood nicknames only for each other, mixed with "I missed you so much" and "I'm so glad you're OK". He wasn't sure which of them initiated the first kiss, but he found he didn't really care when their lips met again and again.
They calmed down shortly, as neither of them were really into PDA, and just held each other tight. Arms wrapped around each other, they were breathing in sync now and could feel the other's heart-beat. It was a steady pulsing rhythm.
"You're home."
"I'm home"
