Trill: So.. uh.. yeah. Implied relations between two males, human names used, and... I don't own Hetalia characters. Sadly...
He clung to his vodka bottle for dear life as he leaned back and chugged what was left in one sitting. He was quick to grab another bottle and wrench it open before drinking as much as he could in one gulp before stuttering and choking slightly when it was too much and he needed air to clear his throat. It was a vicious cycle, and it was all he could do to keep what was left of his sanity. Not like he had much left anyway.
Why bother to try and keep his sanity, then, if there was so little left? He had to keep it for the one person who still cared for him. The blond who was both French and English, felt the cold just as he did, and was possibly the only person who understood how lonely it could really get when you were a nation. Canada, his lovely Matthew.
Ivan sighed at the thought of the next visit he would get. They were random, but that was because Matthew had his nation to govern. Somehow Ivan had been doing just fine without governing anything over his children. They reached a time of peace, it seemed; if only for now. But for now was all he needed.
Every time his Canada, his Matthew, would come, and he would see the bottles left lying around, and instantly scold Ivan for his drinking. He would then force the other nation up, and into the bathroom to wash the stench of alcohol off of him. He would always be careful when undressing him, and handle each article of clothing as if it were his greatest treasure before looking at Ivan and pointing to the tub he had already started running the tap in.
And oddly enough, Ivan did not disobey when the Canadian gave him such orders. He would lower himself into the water and sit there. Matthew would sigh and get a rag and soap, roll up his sleeves, and wash him as gently as one would a newborn babe. It would help Ivan relax, that was for sure.
No words were ever said during these visits outside of the occasional yes or no question from Matthew about what Ivan would like for the next meal. They would just soak in each others presence the week Matthew stayed. And during this time, the vodka would go untouched. His little Canada was intoxicating enough.
And when Ivan pulled Matthew into a hug from behind and buried his face into Matthew's hair, Matthew would stay quiet and simply place his hands over Ivan's. Eventually, Matthew would always say "I'm sorry. I cannot become one with Russia." And Ivan would slowly loosen his grip and let go before going to do his own thing.
He couldn't help wanting to make the Canadian his own. Even if he was no longer the 'Soviet Union', it was still who he was. But there was that fateful day when Matthew said he might not be one with Russia, but he would be one with Ivan… when Ivan returned.
That was the day before he left, again, for an unknown amount of time. This time when Ivan reached for the vodka bottles, he stopped inches from it. He was Ivan, so how could he 'return', as Matthew put it? There was no way to leave his body. He thought about it more, and when he finally realized what Matthew meant, the Canadian was already back for another visit. And in those months he spent thinking, Ivan had not touched even one bottle of his sanity-drink.
When Matthew walked in, Ivan pulled him into a bear hug and buried his face in Matthew's hair and inhaled his scent of maple and pine.
And with an honest smile, something he hadn't done in centuries, he asked it.
"You will become one with Ivan, da?"
Trill: So, I might make a second chapter. I might not. -shrug- Depends on the reviews I get. I wrote this at like midnight when I was bored, so... Yeah, it isn't any big scheme or anything for NaNoWriMo. Heck, I don't even know if fan fics count for that. :/
