The Adventures of the People's Republic of China &
the Russian Federation
Warnings: Language, suggestiveness, potential offense, and ranting. If you don't like gays, I suggest you steer clear of this one. And Hetalia for that matter.
So once upon a time there was this country called China. He was like, 4000 years old (only a little older than John McCain). Seriously, he's ancient but he looks like a little girl. We think he's immortal.
Anyway, he was sitting in his 9,001 acre garden planting some pretty sunflowers because that's what real men do. Do they plant sunflowers in China? They should.
He sat there humming some upbeat American song wondering when Miley Cyrus would finally get shot when a huge shadow loomed over him. You should've seen his face, man. Shit was priceless. I would say he was scared to death, but the guy just won't die. He's seen European countries come and go because that's what European countries do. Europeans ruin everything.
Yeah it was Russia though. He was all smiling and as insane as any other country; you know how it is. He decided that invading China's personal space would be fun; that's what Europeans do after all.
Damn Europeans.
So China was all like "Aiyah, what do you want? You scared me, aru!"
But China just could not read Russia's poker face. That's hard to do, you know. Especially with a psychotic man-child.
"Chinaaaaaa~, I want a sunflower!" Russia said in a strangely cute tone. 'Cause the man is like seven feet tall and jumps out of planes drinking vodka. We like to say he's big-boned because we like not being killed.
China was all "KAY WHATEVER" and gave him a sunflower as beautiful as the sunset. He expected Russia to leave satisfied. But oh, no, Russia was not done. His smile grew wider and someone just fell into the Okhotsk Sea. How unfortunate. Well, dude shouldn't have been leaning in so far.
"I gave you your sunflower. Now what?" the old nation said impatiently. That's how old people are. We've all heard that whole "GET OFFA MAH LAWN" routine with the loading of the shotgun.
"Sleep with me!" said the Russian, holding his new sunflower close. Of course he's Russian. He's Russia.
That was when China realized why he was so intensely afraid of Russia.
"Are you crazy, aru?"
What a dumb question OF COURSE he's crazy.
"Um…well…Who's on top?" China asked hesitantly after a long, uncomfortable silence. Really wasn't something brought up in normal conversation, but this is Hetalia. They talk about some weird shit.
But then Russia was like "WHAT I don't have a bunk bed" and that just confused the poor feminine man further.
"So what do you mean by sleep with me, aru…?"
"Exactly what I said! You sleep in my bed with me, yes?" said Russia as if that were the most obvious thing in the world. Goodness, China, why do you have such a dirty mind? It used to mean exactly what it sounded like, back in the good old days when Grandpa Rome—
Wait.
Never mind.
Men are whores.
You can guess China was slightly relieved by this explanation, but he was still unsure. That Latvia kid is srsly messed up spending so much time with the former Commie. He's always shivering. And getting eaten by sheep. Lithuania's pretty traumatized too but he's just emo. Poor guy. We'll go ahead and leave him to Poland. Might do him some good to spend more time with America to cheer him up, but I don't see that happening any time soon. Dude's pretty busy, what with the failing economy and losers who claim his new boss is a communist Nazi or something ridiculous like that. I mean, really. A communist Nazi? That just doesn't make sense. Ask China. Or Germany. Though he probably wouldn't want to talk about it.
Then China agreed to go back to Russia's house and holy shit, Batman! was it cold. He got into his warm, oversized red pyjamas and yes I spelled it with a y, I'm feeling very British today. China looked super-happy-fun-cute! as Japan would say, and he hoped to the panda gods above that Russia wore clothes when he slept. He should. It's fucking freezing.
China still remembered that time when he'd stayed in a spare bedroom at the Italy brothers' house and woke up with two naked brunets sleeping on either side of him. It was pretty awkward. I'm sure you can relate. Not as awkward for the younger of the brothers, who seemed used to the idea of sleeping with friends without any clothes on ("I do it all the time with Germany!"). Romano, the elder brother, did not seem quite as pleased ("I-it was an accident, I swear! #$&!").
Russia wore clothes when he slept, DURHUR. China resolved to stay on the opposite side of the ginormous bed, but Russia would not have that. He pulled China close to him in a suffocating hug. China expected discomfort, but the man was warm for such a cold country. He decided that maybe this wouldn't be so bad.
The End.
Haha just kidding. That's not the end. Fooled you there, didn't I?
The next morning China woke up with a massive hangover, the aftertaste of vodka in his mouth, and to top it all off a pain in the arse. And Russia was gone. In his place was a giant, friendly-looking panda of whom China decided to smother with his sorrows. He cried and hugged that thing like a hippie would hug a tree as old as China itself. Dang, that's an old tree. Little did he know that that was no ordinary panda.
GOD CHINA WHY ARE YOU SO STUUUUPID. Why would a panda be in Russia? The panda suddenly whipped off its head to reveal—gasp!—Russia's own noggin. Psh. Who uses noggin? This turn of events surprised China though. Just a little bit.
"Good morning China! You slept well, yes?" because Russians end all of their statements with an inquiring "yes."
"Yes, I slept well, but I feel horrible, aru! What did you do to me?" China demanded, ignoring the fact that he'd been cuddling Russia in a panda suit.
Russia's face became serious like he was going to school the Asian, fo'shizzle.
"You woke up around midnight and said you were thirsty, so I got vodka. I did not pay attention to how much you were drinking, but you became very, very drunk. Then you decided to go downstairs shouting something about Japan stealing your culture and not even thanking you for it, and you fell down the steps. You have a pain in your behind, da? That is where you landed," the enormous but mostly uninhabitable nation said.
"So you didn't steal my virginity?"
"Uh…Nyet?"
"Praise Jesus! I mean Buddha."
"You are a virgin?"
"N-no! Of course not! Ha ha, I'm so old, how can you think I'm a virgin?"
"But you just said—"
"SOOOO I'd better be going! Wal-Mart ordered a whole lot of cheap goods, so I must put my under-paid, over-labored children to work! Farewell, Russia!" and then China ran the hell outta there.
He was kind of embarrassed by what he assumed had happened (again with your dirty old man mind) and even more so by what he had admitted to the Russian. What if he used it against him, like blackmail? Actually, the men of Hetalia did not get much action seeing as they're all closet gays. But who knows. Maybe someday they will flash their brilliant, rainbow-esque colors to the world and realize that it's the norm and it should be really, really obvious. I mean seriously. SOMEONE has to enjoy France's abuse. Like Canada. Who else is that forgiving? Then we have England, who is always super tsundere around America and sobs over him when he's drunk. Poland is freaking fabulous, Sweden calls Finland his wife for some unfathomable reason which makes me wonder if he's gender-confused or is too weird to call Finland his husband, Greece and Japan…you know...and you get the gist of things. So what am I trying to say here? What is the point of all of this rambling? You be the judge of that. Because remember—YOU are the pilot of your own life. Or something like that.
There is one sure lesson to be learned from this though: Europeans ruin everything. It's true. But I love them anyway. I love the world and I hate war. Do you hate war? I hate war. If war were a person, I would set them on fire. But that would be the last act of violence, because I would set violence on fire too.
This is the end this time seriously. What, were you expected some cheesy, cavity-inducing BL romance scene? Well you read the wrong fic, buddy. SO YES.
LA FIN.
...
I AM DISAPPOINT. So like, review if you want. This was written around midnight, when most of my crackish stories tend to be written.