Hey everyone of FF. I'm Absolut Controversy, or just Absolut {Abb-so-lutt}. This is my first fanfiction ever, so it's probably the worst excuse for a story ever. n_n But we all have to start somewhere, no? It's a darker AU, non-country, Russia/China story, and should be updated regularly. Human names are used, of course. Rating mayyy go up, but probably not.

This chapter is reallllyyy short, but believe me, once I figure out where this is going, the chapters will become a more acceptable size.

Ivan Braginsky was Wang Yao's lover, perfect match, significant other, soulmate, whatever you wanted to call it. They were created for each other, bodies and mind woven into the same beautiful fabric. The pair would be together for the rest of their humble lives. Their love could not be worn down or ripped apart; they were one entity, one soul. This type of connection only happened once in a lifetime. As long as Ivan and Yao were together, it didn't matter what comes after death. They could take on anything.

He was Yao's Ivan.

Or so Yao believed.

But there comes a time of doubt and fear in every man's life, no matter their assurance.

"I am home, Yao! Come give me a hello kiss, da?" a loud, singsong voice trilled down the hallway, meeting a young Chinese man's bitterly waiting ears.

Ivan's drunk again. Yao sighed coldly, gathering his long black hair up into a ponytail once more and trudged down the hallway. He met Ivan's eager lips and wandering hands with the blank gaze of a martyr.

"Alright." Yao snapped, pulling Ivan's hands off of him. His tone was scathing, but his movements were gentle. No matter how crude the Russian man could become when inebriated, it was still his Ivan. His Ivan. Those words simply didn't seem the same anymore. They used to fill his heart to the brim with joy and pride. They were empty now, even a burden. His Ivan.

Something had changed in Ivan when they'd committed themselves to each other. He used to be sweet, caring, quiet, and gentle. He could still be all these things, it was just as if now he didn't even try. As if he didn't feel like he had to now that Yao was eternally his. So he'd retreated to his vodka and shallow needs.

But still Yao hung on desperately to his Ivan, holding his breath, wishing for him to change back.

"Mm, what's wrong?" Ivan had lifted his head from the crook in Yao's neck and hung his thick coat on the rack while his lover had been pondering. Even a drunken Ivan could see the distress on Yao's face.

"Nothing's wrong." He sighed, turning on his heel to return to their room, emotionally exhausted.

Yao's biting demeanor that night had sobered Ivan up a bit. "I can make you feel better," he offered thinly, following his boyfriend of sorts in the hall.

"No, Ivan, you can't." the flat, icy response speared the Russian right through his alcohol induced haze. His lover was suddenly facing him, his normally warm brown eyes furious and black. "Not unless you change." When he was greeted with a confused, slightly hurt stare, he continued. "What happened to you? You were so kind, so thoughtful. It was amazing, what we had. But you're not the same. You changed. Why?"

Yao was in a rage now, previously bottled up thoughts and rants coming loose, storming back down the hall the same way he came, into the kitchen. Ivan followed silently.

"And this?" the Chinese man seethed, grabbing an empty vodka bottle from the counter. "This is just disgusting!" worked up even further, he smashed the bottle into the wall, shattering it into a hundred of clear pieces.

Ivan flinched, finally reacting, hand reaching out uselessly.

Of course! Yao screeched inwardly, He responds when it has to do with his DAMN VODKA!

"I can't take it anymore," his voice was reduced to nothing but a choked whisper, "I…I have to leave, Ivan. I can't tell you how long I'll be gone, but I'm leaving. I need a break from this."

The last remains of Ivan's stupor faded into nothing as the words pierced through his cheerful armor. "…what?"

"You heard me." Yao's mind was in turmoil. He grabbed the little red suitcase in the closet, kept there in case either of them needed to travel in a snap. "I don't know where I'll go," he rambled, mind set on the rash decision. "Maybe to Kiku's house, if he'll allow me to stay for the time being. If not, I'll have to go to Im Yong Soo's home."

Once he'd shoved some clothes into the case and zipped it up, he rushed, head down to the front door, expecting Ivan to still be standing dumbfounded in the kitchen. But instead, a large shadow loomed over him and the stretch to the exit.

"Yao." The low murmur crawled through the stagnant air, sending a chill down his spine. "Are you really leaving me?"

Yao took in a shaky breath. "Yes. Until you change. This is not the Ivan Braginsky I gave my heart to." He pushed past Ivan, and grabbed the doorknob.

"Don't go." An appallingly strong force slammed him into the wall across from the door.

"Ivan, release me!"

"Don't go."

"…I have to. Please get off of me."

He heard Ivan suck in a sharp breath, and tighten his grip on Yao's shoulder. "I won't let you. We can make up, and it will be all better." Ivan's free hand began slipping under his lover's shirt, pulling it over his head.

"Stop right now, Ivan!"

Yao slipped out from under Ivan's large hands, which had paused for a moment at the force of his command, grateful that his movements were still a bit slowed from the intoxication.

Ivan had tried to take advantage of him.

Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, but he refused to let them spill over. "This is what I was talking about. You were so amazing before. What happened to you?"

There was silence.

Yao had backed up to the door now, opening it and taking a step outside. It was cold.

He closed the door, still facing it. He pressed a hand to the smooth wood, and whispered, his voice being swept away by the frosty wind.

"You used to be so perfect."