notes || Originally written as a Christmas present for Russia (Till death due us part), this work was completed and supposed to be published on the 7th of January. There were traditional inaccuracies, however, so the date got pushed back and I am now pleased with the results. This is truly my OTP, so please enjoy. Written January 20, 2009.

How was it possible for a letter to feel so cold?

Not the message, mind you, but the piece of paper itself. Every inch of it seemed to be layered with an invisible frost, corners crisp and unbent as the feel of the parchment nipped playfully at his fingertips. A familiar cold, longing to seep into his bones and never let go. Never again. The sensation caused a ripple of anxiety to run along the course of his spine, though there was not a draft to be felt in the entire house. Warmth was not just a pleasure now where he lived, but a prerogative. He made sure of that.

The envelope had arrived only yesterday, plain and rather uninteresting in a sea of letters just like it. It wasn't until emerald eyes had caught sight of the return address that the seal was quickly ripped open, fingers curiously shaking at the contents in his hand.

It was a letter from Russia. Ivan Braginski. An invitation to join him and several others in his home for a Christmas Celebration.

Even handwriting patiently stared back at the Lithuanian, who had yet to react in any sort of particular way. Blinking awkwardly, he finally sank into a nearby chair after a moment or two, giving an audible sigh. Christmas? But the blessed holiday had just come and gone, and the New Year was fast approaching...oh! Oh dear! How could he have been so forgetful? Russia observed his celebration on the 7th of January. There was still plenty of time if he wanted to...

...If he wanted to. That was the question, wasn't it?

Lips fell into a pensive frown, enough so that a pushy blond might have scolded him for like, totally making his face look so ugly. The thought caused an immediate change in expression, eyes softening as the letter was shifted between his slender fingers. The thoughts on his mind, however, were not so quick to change. What might Ivan be trying to gain from all this? The larger nation tended to have a hidden motive behind all of his endeavors, no matter how innocent they seemed, even on paper. Years of living with the man had taught him that lesson well. And would the others actually consider coming? Things were very different now, everyone with their own agendas. His brothers were independent, rebuilt, rebuilding, and there was always so much work to be done...

"Perhaps..."

Tilting his head slightly at the invitation, a touch of color began to blossom upon the Lithuanian's face. It was shameful, really, to be reading so much into this. In the end, it was his personal choice in the matter that would define his going or not, not the plans of others. That and, while the Baltic nations each had their own fair share of horror stories from past experiences with Ivan, Toris alone held a connection with the Russian that could be defined as intimate. Special. Both nations recognized it, though the topic was rather fragile in many ways, especially once the Lithuanian had gained his independence, leaving the household for good. It might be difficult to face that situation again. To face him. The one man who haunted his unspoken thoughts. Still...

"Perhaps it is time to pay him a visit. It has been several years, after all, and, ah, no one should be alone on Christmas."

And in that brief moment, the parchment within his hands did not feel so frozen, Toris folding the invitation and returning it to its proper envelope with a thoughtful smile. Reaching across a nearby table, the phone resting there was quickly taken into his hands and placed on the nation's lap. It would be best to make the call now, so as not to seem discourteous. Bringing the receiver to his ear, a moment was carefully taken to dial the correct number. A number that he had been forced to learn by heart. Some things were far too easy to remember from those times, many of which he wished could simply be forgotten. The phone rang. So many hardships and tortured nights. But the pain acted as herald to a greater cause. He knew that...he would always know that. He had been taught well, after all, to understand the man behind the madness. An audible click.

"...Ah? Hello, Russia-san."

- - - - -

"Privet, Toris!"

The Russian wore a warm, inviting smile as his door was opened, the brunette standing outside in the cold and letting out a quick sneeze before entering. The temperatures here were not unbearable, but they certainly were uncomfortable, especially after his return to warmer climates. However, the readjustment period for this visit would more than likely be easier than most countries who came to call. He had lived to see many winters in this house, some of them warmer than he could have possibly imagined...

"Your trip went well, da?" the larger nation inquired, watching cheerfully as Toris removed his boots and politely hung his coat and scarf in the closet.

"Yes. Thank you, Ivan. Will the others be arriving soon or are they already here?" Emerald eyes looked around in mild excitement, attempting to catch a glimpse of one or both of his brothers if possible. The Lithuanian was looking forward to seeing both Eduard and Raivis together. It was normally easier for those sorts of visits to be conducted on an individual basis at home.

Shaking his head, Ivan continued to smile and observe the other man's expression, a playful innocence coating his voice as both nations made their way into the main room. "Others? Nyet. They were not invited."

Toris stopped quite suddenly, looking over at the Russian with a confused expression. "W-what?"

"They were not invited." Ivan chuckled at his own repetition, angling his face towards the other country. "I knew that you would come to visit me if I included Estonia and Latvia in the invitation, and here you are! Now we will have a wonderful Christmas together. Perhaps you will even consider becoming one with me again~"

The brunette felt slightly sick to his stomach, though he managed to give his host a weak smile and nodded. What a cruel trick. Ivan was just as conniving as always. However, the Lithuanian could not find it in his heart to be upset with him. Not this time. He had chosen of his own accord to come here and, truthfully, the reason had not primarily revolved around his brothers. His stomach churned again with something akin to anxiety. "Yes, ah, a wonderful Christmas." A bit of color returned to his cheeks, Toris remaining awkwardly in place as the Russian nodded in approval, bringing his gloved hands together with a soft clap.

"Good. Now we shall finish preparing the meal. You will help, of course~"

From the even, musing tone of Ivan's voice, the Lithuanian knew there was no room for argument. Words were spoken clearly with an undertone of command, the larger nation intent on having his way and merely amusing himself by posing everything as a question. Old habits die hard. Even as a guest in Russia's house, Toris would not have objected to assisting in the slightest. After countless years of service to several nations, Ivan holding the longest outstanding period of these 'services,' it had become almost second nature to assume a supporting role to those around him. It was enjoyable, actually. That and the brunette felt more comfortable in a kitchen than any other room, especially in this particular house.

"Of course, Ivan. Ah, might I ask then what you were planning to make? Certain dishes require more time than others..."

"I have always been fond of your cooking, Toris." the Russian chimed in, admiring his visitor with a cheerful expression. It was almost as if the man were in his own pleasant little world, cruelly ignoring the Lithuanian's anxiety and refusing to acknowledge any negativity at all towards the situation presented. "Surely you remember what is needed for tonight. It is Christmas, after all~"

The brunette felt a bit of guilty color rise to his cheeks, turning his eyes away. That had been a mistake on his part. "Yes...how could I possibly forget?" Tradition dictated that the same celebratory meal be prepared and eaten every year, the Russian adamantly loyal to anything that concerned the use of his national customs, almost to the point of obsession. "What is there left to do?"

Pleased with both the Lithuanian's actions and response this time around, one large hand came to rest upon the nation's shoulder as Ivan led them both towards the kitchen. Much to the brunette's surprise, an array of delicious smells were already wafting under his nose upon entering, the oven currently occupied with a large earthenware dish and several bowls brimming with food set off to the side on the kitchen table. Ivan recognized the change in the Baltic's demeanor immediately, squeezing his shoulder happily and pointing out each dish in turn, much like a parent teaching their small child for the first time.

"You see the honey, da? And there is the garlic, the peas...the beans and potatoes are in the oven." Bringing Toris towards the old-fashioned set-up, he opened the oven door to prove his claims before quickly shutting it with a snap. "The soup is on the stove. Biscuits must be baked once all the other foods come out of the oven. It is your task to prepare the cod and gather the fruit. I will watch you now~" Stepping back, the Russian assumed a comfortable stance, violet eyes resting upon the Lithuanian with an even stare even as Toris gave a small, uncomfortable swallow.

Another Christmas tradition to remember. Holiday meals were to be cooked to perfection and overseen by the Russian himself. For meals of this magnitude, his brothers were usually employed to help as well, relying mostly on verbal advice and taste tests instead of following the actual recipes. It was just easier that way. The kitchen would slowly begin to overheat, though and, little by little, the task would become increasingly grueling. Ivan never seemed to mind, however. He acknowledged the warmth like an old, forgotten friend...but Eduard and Raivis were not here. Not this time.

"Alright then." Nodding at the instructions, Toris considered his actions before walking calmly enough towards the refrigerator, eager to get the cod taken care of first. If he remembered correctly, Ivan particularly enjoyed his fish with an extra bit of cream...

- - - - -

The cod was one of the first plates emptied between them, Ivan giving his closest attention to anything the Lithuanian had prepared once dinner began. Toris, who noticed the preference immediately, couldn't help but mask a tiny smile as he ate quietly throughout the entire meal. It felt good to do things for others, to make them happy, and his cooking tended to never go unappreciated. Even Feliks could manage a proper like, thanks between overindulgent bites when they visited together. The fussy blond never had been the best with manners, so that truly meant something.

When dinner between the pair concluded, Ivan refused to let the Baltic near his sink, much to the smaller country's dismay. It was soon discovered to be another mistake on his part. Tradition dictated that the nations open presents next whether plates chose to crust over or not. Eventually the brunette gave in, not because of any threat or personal intimidation made on the Russian's part, but because this was not his holiday. He was the guest here and, while he would have normally been forced to take up the burden of household duties at any other event, that would not be the case tonight.

For once, he and Ivan stood as equals. It was an odd feeling, to say the least. In so many ways, it felt wrong...Why?

A stray comment brought the Lithuanian out of his reverie, emerald eyes glancing over to Ivan as they were making their way back into the main room. The larger nation watched him with an amused expression, face softening with a childish air once the brunette's attention had been captured.

"The meal was excellent as always, Toris. I've missed your cooking~" The Russian's compliment, while initially warm and simplistically honest, held a hint of unspoken sadness. The brunette simply nodded before seating himself on the couch, pulling the package he had brought with him a bit closer.

"Ah, thank you, Ivan." He couldn't allow himself to rise to that soft helping of guilt. That was the price of independence, right? Ivan simply had to understand that things were different now...Somehow, the Lithuanian knew he did understand, but that would never stop him from trying to bring everyone back home, to live under one roof as Russia's perfect, happy family. It would actually be a bit awkward if he did...stop trying, that is. The thought caused his lips to curve into a weakly supported smile.

It was funny, though. From the moment he had arrived, Toris had noticed a definite change in Ivan's behavior. Years of living with someone, truly living with them and coming to understand them beneath the surface, he was able to recognize it immediately.

The Russian was being overly hesitant. Like cradling a precious butterfly, unsure if his fingers were allowed to rip and tear at those beautiful, multicolored wings. It was noticeable in every word and action, an observation that the Baltic felt almost apologetic for being able to mentally conclude outright. What made it worse was that it only seemed to be in relationship to him. Topics of conversation were kept general and lighthearted with no hint of manipulation. When he made an error, it passed by seemingly unnoticed. During his dinner preparations, the other nation had overseen each step carefully as always, but with less of an iron grip than the Lithuanian could remember in years. He remained ever present yet considerate, as if completely aware of the invisible boundary carefully marked between them.

It was a face that Ivan had never worn before and, for some reason, it made him more uncomfortable than ever. Seeing that kind of candor...

As the Russian moved to seat himself beside the smaller nation, Toris managed to convey a pleasant enough smile in his direction before picking up his gift and placing it considerately into the other country's hands. "Merry Christmas, Ivan."

"Thank you, Toris~" Warm wishes were returned even before the blond ripped into the flimsy colored paper, revealing a bottle of vodka, very high quality. Blinking down at his present, fingers wrapped tightly around the bottle as violet eyes half-lidded in approval, Ivan's head turning to recognize the Lithuanian immediately with a smile. "How did you know?"

Toris couldn't help but let a small laugh escape his lips, turning his head to avoid letting the Russian witness his slight embarrassment. Ivan's personality had such an endearing nature sometimes, and it tended to show itself in the most simple of circumstances. Feeling a bit of warm contact on his shoulder, the Baltic turned back to see Ivan smiling even more sincerely than before, one palm safely tucked around his bottle while the other held him curiously.

"Was I incorrect in thanking you?" Tilting his head, Ivan continued as if the answer were not important. "Or perhaps you are simply waiting for your present, da?" When the brunette could not manage to find the correct words in time, the Russian merely reached into his coat to produce a tiny box, placing the package into the other nation's hands with incredible care. "Open it, Lithuania."

Letting his fingers run over the smooth wrapping, Toris graciously acknowledged the man with a soft nod before turning his full attention back to the little box, pulling at the rich green ribbon sealing it shut. Lifting the lid, emerald eyes were immediately, curiously reflected in the polished face of a golden pocket watch. Its design was equally simple yet intricate, the case handsomely engraved with elegant flora and the timepiece wound for immediate use. The Lithuanian's careful ear could actually pick up the soft tick, tick, ticking as he lifted it from the box, holding it in his palm to admire the craftsmanship.

"It's to make up for lost time." The blond chirped.

Intrigued, Toris lifted his chin to stare at the Russian. "...Lost time?"

"Da." Ivan nodded, placing his bottle of vodka aside before bringing his gloved hands together in an almost humble motion on top of his lap. "It has been a long time since we last saw each other. When you called to say that you were coming for Christmas, I was very excited! I thought to myself, what could I possibly give my Liet? Something special? Da. Time. All the moments that we have not shared together." Bringing a finger to his chin, the Russian consulted his ceiling and tapped thoughtfully for a moment before focusing his gaze again and continuing. "They were very lonely moments, but I did my best to keep them all safe, just for you." He sounded so incredibly proud, taking the time to make sure his special visitor knew all about the troubles he had gone through to accomplish this difficult feat. "They are yours now. Do you like them, Toris?"

The brunette was speechless. Paralyzed with confusion, compassion...shame. A tender sort of remorse that bubbled in the base of his stomach, making the tears that formed in the corners of his eyes all the more salty-sweet. It was true that the Lithuanian had never forgotten his time with Ivan. That was impossible. The experiences were permanently embedded into his memory, carved into every jagged scar upon his back. But so much of it had been dedicated to pain, fear...not the kinds of things you wished to remember. Long days ruled by an iron grip and longer nights dictated by drunken emotions and the idea that if you remained silent, out of sight and you closed your eyes, everything would disappear and the nightmare would finally end. But it never did. It had taken so long to gain what he had now, but in many ways, he was still lost in a dream. Lost in a Russian blizzard. Fingers gripped around the cold metal of the pocket watch, Toris blinking back the tears that he would not allow himself to show in front of Ivan...That would be an absolute disaster.

"Ivan..."

But another part of the brunette wanted to let those tears fall, to give in and allow Ivan to cradle his bottled emotions for once without fear. That had always been his purpose, had it not? His weight to carry? The larger nation harbored such incredible hardships within him, a bloody past and painful memories nearly tearing the man to pieces, and he had chosen Toris long ago as his source of strength, support and comfort. Not the others. Him. Even through all the pain, that was the memory which had stayed with him for good. He alone knew several of the man's deepest, darkest secrets. How many times had he cradled the Russian to his chest, letting the blond's chin fall heavy upon trembling shoulders until his uniform sagged with bittersweet emotion? How often had bare skin been pressed together in layers of resounding warmth, hips grinding as lips pressed tenderly against his own, soft apology lost in the burning sensation of being filled beyond what words could never say alone? Through the humiliation, the shame, the terror and deceptive tenderness...he still remained loyal, devoted to this man's happiness and, consequently, to his own. By providing Ivan with the illusion of peace, the Lithuanian was rewarded with a sense of inner comfort as well. After all this time, the world was only truly in balance when both he and Ivan were...That was it, wasn't it? The real reason he couldn't say no to Russia's invitation? To satisfy the bitterness coating his tongue and quell the uneasy pull in his stomach? He felt so ashamed...

"I, ah..."

The Lithuanian couldn't ignore the truth any longer. From the moment he had picked up the phone and confirmed his being here, the anxiety weighing on the brunette's shoulders had only grown heavier thinking about it. He had recognized not just a want, but a personal need to be in this house with the Russian tonight. Not to celebrate Christmas, but to silently plead for his own forgiveness. To wash away the guilt of leaving the one man who needed and desired him most behind and alone for so long. But why did he feel guilty? He had the right to independence! The right to care for his people! Was it because he still lo-

"Toris, are you unhappy with my gift?" Violet eyes blinked back a wave of childish concern, one hand gently brushing a lock of brunette hair away from the nation's face. It was impossible to escape the gentility of Ivan's actions, the brunette stunned for a moment, instinctively leaning into the touch before emerald eyes widened in realization.

"N-no! Please, let me apologize." The Lithuanian fumbled slightly, causing his observer to lean forward.

Fingers slowly tightening around the Baltic's shoulder, the Russian shook his head with a light chuckle. "Why, Toris?"

It was far from threatening, the way Ivan spoke, almost comical. The man was completely at ease, enjoying this moment in its entirety as he pulled even closer to the brunette. Giving a swallow of unspoken confusion, Toris watched the smiling blond carefully, unable to resist as his body was turned to face the towering nation. Stalking a bit closer, the Russian was soon at eye level, slowly running a gloved finger down the Lithuanian's flushing cheek before continuing softly.

"You came back, da?"

Toris gasped, emerald eyes staring into those violet counterparts with immediate realization even as the larger nation smiled in approval. The warmth of Russia's words caused something within the smaller country's chest to skip with joy, dropping like a stone into his stomach and causing a flood of relief to wash over every trembling doubt. Ivan knew. Ivan had known all along. The invitation, the dinner, the pocket watch...it was all part of his game, a game to see if Toris would make the choice to return. Not because he had to, but because he wanted to...That was the price of independence, right? The larger nation had no power to make the Baltic stay, but he was quite willing to forgive and reclaim his favorite. If only for a little while, for Christmas...

And in that moment, the Lithuanian made his choice.

Leaning forward, Toris gave his answer without hesitation as lips tenderly brushed against the Russian's own, cradling and caressing and asking openly for that forgiveness which had been made so apparent in the Russian's eyes. Ivan wasted no time in returning and rewarding that gentle sentiment, wrapping his great arms around the brunette and holding him close, inwardly smiling at the feeling of hot tears being pressed against his cheeks.

All the guilt. All the shame. All the pain and lies and hidden emotions. It didn't matter anymore because he had made this choice, and he knew it was right. To be here, with Ivan. With the one man who cared for him, loved him, so deeply as to embed it into him, body and soul. Whom he now knew he loved in return without question.

All that remained now was making up for lost time.