A story inspired by Feux Follets' "Jones Paranormal Investigation Agency," written with permission from the author. The missing scene that would take place somewhere before chapter 16 between Yao and Ivan. Please if you have not read "Jones Paranormal Investigation Agency," do yourself a favor and read it. It is amazing. It also really helps understand this story, although I do not think it is completely necessary. Anyway, read and review, please.
I Will See You Later Then
Yao rapped three, quick knocks on the Russian's door. It had been three weeks since Natalia's funeral, and Yao was the only person Ivan would see. After knocking, Yao heard the sound of Ivan talking on the other side of the door. The walls were to thick to make out what he was saying, but the Chinese man knew Ivan's voice well enough to recognize it.
"Ivan, open up, aru." Yao called through the door.
A few moments later, the sound of unbolting the door was heard. Yao was grateful that there seemed to be only one lock on the door, instead of the several nails that had almost been driven into the door before Natalia's death. Ivan opened the door and allowed Yao to enter. The Asian started to speak, but quickly cut off his greeting, as he realized that Ivan was on the phone.
Ivan shut the door, and Yao shivered, realizing that Ivan's apartment was hardly warmer than the cold outside. Ivan was wearing his coat, gloves, and scarf, so he might not have noticed. Yao saw an open window and walked over an closed it, patiently waiting for Ivan to finish his call.
The Russian's voice was solemn, as he spoke. "Да…да…да, Yeketerina." Oh, he was talking to his sister.
"Да, я люблю Вас сестра. До свидания." And he hung up the phone. For a moment he stared at the floor before plastering a smile on his face, "Hello Yao!" He walked over to the much smaller man and grasped his hand.
"Good evening, Ivan." Yao was slightly confused, but he smiled and gave the Russian's hand a small squeeze before pulling his hand away. Yao moved to the small kitchen in the apartment, beginning to cook dinner for the two of them. Ivan looked over at him almost longingly, as he sat at the table without a word.
Yao was curious, but decided not to push the man. Several minutes later, he set a plate of dumplings in front of Ivan, "I decided to make one of my homeland's specialties today." Yao sat in another chair and picked up a dumpling off his own plate with a pair of chopsticks he always carried with him.
Ivan stared at the plate in front of him, "Yao is so nice to me…" He looked like he wanted to say more, but his voice faded, and his expression fell.
Almost instinctively, Yao's hand shot across the table, taking Ivan's hand in his. "Ivan, what is the matter, aru?"
"Yeketerina and I have decided that I must return to Russia. She needs me even more now after Natalia's…" His voice hitched.
Yao's dark eyes grew wide. If he had not been so controlled in nature he would have cried out. He did not want Ivan to leave, but he forced that sentiment down. He knew the importance of family. "Then you must do what you can to help her," he whispered. He could not raise his voice if he wanted to speak without crying.
They were silent for a few moments longer. Then Ivan raised his face, glittering, violet eyes meeting warm, brown ones, "Would Yao come with me to Russia?"
Yao looked like a deer in headlights. "I…Ivan…aru…" He suddenly pushed away from the table and turned around fleeing from the kitchen to the living room. He collapsed into a chair and pressed his palms against his eyes, willing tears to stop falling from his eyes.
A voice so soft came from the entrance to the room, "Yao?"
The Chinese man could not look up. He heard the shuffling of steps as Ivan approached him. "Yao does not want to come to Russia with me, does he." The tone of Ivan's voice was flat and soft. It was a statement rather than a question.
"No, aru!" Yao finally looked up, forcing his eyes up to meet those of Ivan towering above him. The exclamation sounded so loud in comparison to how they both had been speaking before. It felt like it rang through the whole apartment. "I want to go. But…but, I can't." Tears were streaming down his face, and Ivan knelt to make it easier for Yao to look into his eyes. Yao was not sure if that made him happy or not. With a deep breath he continued, voice subdued again, "I cannot leave the agency. We will suffer enough losing you. Alfred cannot handle me leaving, too. Alfred is no good at analytical work. Alfred, Francis, Arthur, Matthew, they all need me there." He buried his face in his hands once again.
Ivan's hands tightened around the arms of Yao's chair. He wanted to say, "But I need Yao, too." But he did not.
"Yao takes work very seriously. That is good." Ivan pulled Yao's slender hands toward him, and held them for a moment before using his own hands to wipe Yao's tears. He was surprisingly gentle. "I do not like to see Yao cry. Please do not cry."
His hands rested against Yao's cheeks. Yao moved his hands and placed them over the Russian's large ones. They felt so small and feeble, as they were dwarfed in comparison. Yao was angry with himself. He should be comforting Ivan not the other way around. He felt so pathetic.
Suddenly, Yao felt himself tugged out of the chair into Ivan's arms. He had been comforted in the strong arms many times before, and he was about to relax into Ivan, when something happened that had not happened before.
One of Ivan's arms was wrapped around Yao, but the other moved, tilting Yao's face up, and Ivan placed a kiss firmly on Yao's mouth. Yao moved his hands from Ivan's chest and snaked them around his neck, opening his mouth for more of a kiss.
The kiss broke, and Yao rested his forehead against Ivan's chest. Ivan gently nuzzled into Yao's silky, black hair. "I love Yao. I love you very much, Yao." He whispered softly.
"Why would you tell me this when you have to leave, aru?" His voice was not angry or scolding, but gently pleading.
"I am out of time." Ivan shifted, softly kissing Yao's swanlike neck. They stayed like that for several moments longer.
Breaking the silence, "Aru, I want to feel your skin." Yao pulled back and unwound Ivan's scarf from his neck. Ivan pulled off his gloves behind Yao's back and dropped them to the floor. Ivan's hands enveloped Yao's. They were warm. Yao leaned up, burying his face in the crook of Ivan's rarely exposed neck.
Then next morning, Yao woke up in Ivan's bed, fully clothed. Ivan's arms were wrapped around him. He sat up, and the movement caused Ivan to wake as well. Confused at their situation, Yao tilted his head in a question.
"Yao fell asleep when we were kneeling on the floor. I thought the bed would be more comfortable, so I moved us."
Yao smiled and leaned forward to kiss him lightly. He gently stroked Ivan's cheek. "Very good thinking, aru." Then he sighed, "I should go check the office."
He stood up and ran his hands over his clothes to smooth out the wrinkles. He gathered his cooking implements and set a kettle of water to boil so Ivan could make himself tea once he had left.
Ivan walked Yao to the door. "I will be back tonight." He turned to the Russian.
"Yao?" The question suddenly made Yao realize that Ivan had not said anything since his explanation, which had been almost half an hour earlier.
"Yes, Ivan, what is wrong?"
"I said I loved Yao last night, and Yao never…" The soft voice faded, not wanting to acknowledge anything.
Yao shook his head, smiling. He could not believe how such a strong man could be so unsure of himself. He pulled Ivan down to kiss him once again. "Of course I love you, aru. I would not be here if I did not."
Ivan smiled brightly. Yao smiled as well, but his was tinged with sadness.
"I will see you later then, aru. Goodbye."
Translation:
Да…да…да, Yeketerina-Yes…yes…yes, Yeketerina.
Да, я люблю Вас сестра. До свидания.-Yes, I love you sister. Goodbye.
A/N: Okay so I had no idea what to title this. When I don't know what to title something, I usually use the last line or part of it, so forgive me for that. Please, please, please tell me what you think. I am unsure how this turned out.