Bedhead
Pairing: China/Korea
Rating: G
Note: I've accepted the fact that if I ever want to see new fic for these two then I'm going o have to write it myself. Cross-posted to AO3 and my tumblr.
There ain't no way we're gonna find another, the way we sleep all summer. So why won't you fall back in love with me?
Yong Soo had always been a delicate child, easy to love and even easier to break. He never quite understood, or chose not to understand, that being a nation required a thicker skin than being human. He gave away his thoughts freely, his love even freer. China supposed that was his fault really, he had raised the boy after all.
He was too permissive really.
Korea invites himself over from breakfast; it's hardly an odd occurrence. He brings him tea in bed, like he had when he was young and barely able to speak. That was thousands of years ago, but the elder nation can still see the traces of the unsure footing, the pride on the Korean's concentrated face.
Yao complains about the hour, complains about him breaking into his house, but Yong Soo just reminds him that he was the one who had given him a key.
Yong Soo is quieter in the morning, more subdued. He hasn't had a chance to get hyped up on whatever sugared product that he inhales on a daily basis. He is calm as he will ever be, but still every bit as earnest.
China will never admit that the tea soothes his aching bones as does having someone care enough to visit. Korea has always cared. He doesn't know how not to. He is unable to, especially when he is concerned.
It sickens him almost as much as it endears him to the peninsula nation.
When he sets the cup down Yong Soo wastes no time in plopping on the bed and wiggling as close to him as he will allow. "Aiyah, get off, you're not a kid anymore! Have some respect for your elders." He only puts up a minimal fight though; it was good tea after all.
Yong Soo wouldn't have gotten up anyway.
They make an odd pair; the Korean was tall and solid, the larger of the two of them by far but he curled into his side as if he were still a child. He was over nearly two thousand years but had never l had the ability to leave the metaphorical nest. Instead of growing up and away from him, Korea stubbornly dragged his feet and never left, not really.
"I love you Hyung-nim." Korea sighs happily; the words are heavy and moist against the curve of his neck. China swallows thickly. There is no doubt in his word, there was never had been, just quiet resolve that he was right.
Yao raised Yong Soo from near birth; he knows him better than he knows himself. He knows just how easy it is for Korea to say these kinds of things, to mean them. He also knows how easy it is for him to brush his feelings off, to break his heart. He knows that he'd take it hard but eventually come back for more; a slave to his own heart.
China sighs deeply and kisses his forehead before laying his check against messy brown bedhead. He smells the same as he always has. "I know you do Yong Soo, I know."
And he does.
This is not their first morning like this and it will not be their last.