Title: Sweet Lure
Pairing: RusLiet, Russia & Lithuania
Rating: T
Warning: Starvation as a form of selfharm, swearing, mentions of violence, weak!Liet, flashbacks, crying (I'm so cruel to them... xD;;)
s w e e t l u r e
Nations can't die.
Ivan tried his best to reassure himself with that fact as he took the breakfast tray and walked slowly upstairs.
If they could, Toris would already be gone.
It was true. A whole month had already passed... His bare feet were quiet on the wooden floorboards in the hallway as he walked down it, nudging the door open with his knee. The sight of the fragile brunette tucked into the bed was more than enough to sink his spirits, Ivan's expression becoming even more concerned, a rare outward emotion for him. He set the tray on the bedside table, then perched next to the Lithuanian nation carefully, reluctant to wake him. The peaceful breathing was the only motion signaling that Toris wasn't dead.
Hesitantly, Ivan reached for the brunette, his fingertips brushing against an emaciated cheek, his other hand sweeping hair out of Toris' face. He was deeply asleep, the Russian thought, a pang of worry shooting through his heart. Every day he came and sat here, he couldn't help but think Toris wouldn't wake up again, at all. Then, he stirred under the touch, a weak moan slipping past chapped lips.
"Toris..." whispered the blonde man silently, raising his voice enough to be audible to say, "Toris, love, wake up..."
Reluctantly, he did, tired green eyes settling on his visitor without a word. The dull ache in his empty stomach grated at his insides like a knife, the smell of the food invading his senses. Closing his eyes again, he let out a shuddering breath, and pulled himself into a sitting position, his body trembling with what should only be a simple effort for anyone else. The harsh bruises on his upper arms stood out blatantly on pale skin, a myriad of tones of purple and green blended together from yesterday's incident, as Ivan recollected with a wince of guilt. He hadn't meant to snap at the brunette like that, but he was so, so tired... His fingers turning to claws, he'd grabbed and shook that gaunt body violently as he screamed at him. He'd begged, demanded of him, and even threatened him, but Toris wouldn't give in. Finally, Ivan had shoved him against the headboard and let go, throwing the tray to the floor with a crash of broken porcelain in his rage...
"I made you breakfast..." Ivan commented hopefully, his eyes avoiding Toris'.
Toris opened his eyes slowly once more, tracing the badly hidden troubled look on Ivan's face back to his own body.
"I don't want it..."
A rough wet sound wrenched from his throat abruptly, doubling over as his frame was wracked with coughs. Immediately the Russian was there, his large hand rubbing circles on his back, ineffective but still comforting. He almost retched then, his own hand at his throat, tears burning painfully at the corner of his eyes. A thread of gleaming crimson slipped from the corner of his mouth, causing an alarmed cry from Ivan, who gathered Toris in his arms and rocked him gently. His chin resting on the larger nation's shoulder, the brunette's body slowly calmed it's spasms and he leaned into the touch, exhausted.
"I-I'm fine... Don't worry..." he rasped, the burning in his throat increasing as punishment.
With unintentional harshness, Ivan pulled away suddenly, unconcealed pain on his face.
"'Fine'? 'Fine'?" he repeated angrily, making the other man instantly regret his words.
"Look at you! You're skin and bones, Toris! If you were human, you'd be dead already!"
Quietly, bitterly from the brunette as he determinedly avoided the piercing gaze directed at him and wiped the blood away, "I'd rather be human then..."
An involuntary whimper as he was shaken briefly, then a command, "Look at me!"
Toris unenthusiastically obeyed, flinching back at the burning violet stare.
"You're sick, and I will help you, even if I have to force that food down your throat," Ivan hissed, twitching when the emerald eyes he normally admired became narrowed and guarded at his words.
"I'll eat later," he muttered, looking away again.
Liar.
"That's what you said before," said Ivan flatly.
"...I mean it this time."
Liar!
"When, later? A week? A year?" he pressed, grinding his teeth with frustration.
The stubborn brunette didn't answer, his gaze determinedly lowered to the floor.
"Do you honestly hate me that much?"
That got Toris' attention, looking up his protest was loud, "That's not why-!"
Cutting him off, the Russian let out a bark of laughter that wasn't humorous in the slightest, his eyes shining with desperation. "Then what IS the reason, Toris? Care to explain why you haven't eaten willingly-" here his expression became pained, thinking of when he'd held the struggling nation down and pried his jaw open. But afterwards, when the guilt was burning at him, he'd come back to find Toris with his fingers down his throat in the bathroom. "-in a whole fucking month!"
Ivan really didn't know. He'd done his best to coax an answer from the brunette, and failed. The other two Baltics were too scared to say anything to him directly, and Prussia had simply grinned arrogantly and thrown out his opinion without being asked. "Well he hates you, obviously."
Toris flinched at the words. It wasn't often Ivan swore. He's really upset... He shook the thought away.
"It's your own fault anyway!" he cried out, his head down.
"What-" Angered confusion made way to slow realization as the blonde remembered the days before this had all started.
Ivan had asked him to go to the market, while he was busy with paperwork... The Lithuanian had agreed willingly enough, as it wasn't too cold outside and his cleaning was done. After an hour or so, Ivan had started wondering why he was taking so long, and finally another half hour later Toris had come home.
"Ivan."
Said man had glanced up with a furrowed brow and a gently reprimanding tone, "You took a long time..."
"Yeah... Sorry," the brunette responded, an odd hint of something else to his voice.
"Is something wrong...?"
"Oh no, not at all... Look, I got your favourite vodka too."
As Toris fished in the bag at his side, Ivan turned in his seat, his expression concerned.
"Toris..."
"Here, catch!"
Violet eyes widened as the brunette threw the bottle in his direction, only for it to hit the corner of the desk with a loud bang as it shattered. The liquid splashed all over Ivan, the pieces falling scattered to the floor.
"Ah, guess I missed." Toris didn't sound too upset about that, somehow.
"TORIS!" Ivan stood, the chair screeching as it was pushed back suddenly. A cocktail of emotions swam in his narrowed eyes, most blatantly anger and exasperation. "What the hell is wrong with you today? Clean this up now!"
This time, Toris's voice was quiet.
"I saw the train, Ivan."
"A train? You threw a bottle of vodka at me because you saw a train?"
"The train taking my people to Siberia."
The Russian stopped. "The deportations," he said with disbelief. "You're not eating because of the deportations..."
"...I'm sorry, Toris. I had to-" "NO! You're not sorry at all! It's all your fault!"
Ivan could feel a headache coming on as he tried to placate his angered lover. He put a hand on Toris' shoulder, only to have it slapped away, bright tears shining in those green eyes he adored so...
"Toris, listen to me, I didn't have a choice, they didn't ask me-" And it was true, they hadn't. But it didn't matter what he said, he wouldn't be believed.
"Don't give me that bullshit! I hate you!" the bitter words cut into Ivan like the glass shards on the floor. Toris turned on his heel and ran from the room, taking Ivan's heart with him. Later, he'd apologized, but the tension was still hanging in the air between them. Another stack of paperwork arrived, and Ivan just didn't have the time to pursue the issue further. Two days later, Toris denied breakfast, using the 'not hungry' excuse, then the same for lunch. Finally at dinner that night, he refused outright.
"Toris... That's why, isn't it?" the pain in that voice was unmistakeable, and the brunette couldn't bring himself to look up.
"I-I just... I just wanted you to see what they're going through... My people..." he whispered, hot tears dripping onto the hands tightly curled in his lap.
Suddenly he was being held tightly by the Russian, and he returned the favour, pressing his wet face against the bigger nation's chest with a sniffle.
"Why didn't you tell me that was upsetting you? I could've made it better... or tried..."
Toris shook his head.
"Didn't want to make it better..." he admitted with a whisper. "Just wanted something I could control..."
Fingers tilted his chin up and he didn't resist, closing as Ivan kissed his tear stained cheeks gently, leaning his forehead against the other's own.
"I'm so sorry...!" the blonde almost wailed, the guilt in his expression unbearable for the skeletal Lithuanian in his arms.
And then, Toris was holding Ivan as he sobbed brokenly, his tears burning the brunette's cheeks, but he didn't mind. As much as it hurt to see it, he knew Ivan meant it, and it lessened the ache of his people's pain. He rocked the taller man slowly, reveling in just how safe he felt against him here.
Finally Ivan had calmed enough to speak other than to apologize, and sore violet eyes came up to meet his once more.
"P-Please..." an uncharacteristic stutter, even more so the plea. "This can't go on, moy lyubimaya, please..."
"Vanya..." quietly, Toris began.
"Ya... Ya pomogu tebe, da? Vse idet kak nado, ya zdes'!" ("I'll help you, yes? Everything will be fine, I'm here!")
The Russian's voice hit a higher pitch, speaking too quickly and the brunette couldn't think enough to remember the meanings of the words he spoke.
"V-Vanya, shh... I'll try, okay...?" his green eyes grew softer with concern as he reassured the man gently.
"You promise...?" Ivan whispered hopefully, a smile itching at his lips in response.
The smaller nation nodded tiredly, but with relief blossoming slowly inside him as the blonde drew him near, kissing him softly on the lips.
"I love you so much, Toris..."
"...I know."
A pause, then a small smile.
"I love you too, Ivan."
s w e e t l u r e
A/N: My first finished RusLiet fic... It was one of those ideas that just suddenly happen. I wanted to have a worrying Ivan, rather than an abusive one... I hope I managed to make it work... xD;;
It was really hard to think of a title, and in the end I decided on 'sweet lure', which is part of the lyrics from a VOCALOID song called 'Top Secret', which in my mind is a very good representation of Ivan and Toris' relationship... My favourite version of the song is here; (add the normal youtube website url on the front) /watch?v=UIKv8StcP7E and the English (translated) lyrics are here; http : / / www .animelyrics .com/ doujin/vocaloid/topsecret .htm (Take out spaces, 'cos FF be hatin'...)
I really love that song, and that pairing...