A/N: This here is my early/late Russia Birthday fic. Early 'cos I wrote it on 18th Dec and late since I'm posting it now.
Happy Birthday, Vanechka *cuddles Ivan plushie she got for her birthday*
Sorry for the slight Natalya-bashing. He merely finds her very scary, thats all. He still loves her, but doesn't want to spend time with her 'cos she scares him.
Rituals
He stepped outside, not bothering to notice the date or the weather outside.
It was snowing, like always. That was not surprising. When does it not snow?)
He had stopped sending out invitations a long time ago. What was the point, after all?
(No one came. No one would. And why should they? This place was too cold...and his birthday was bang in the middle of December.
They all declined – albeit politely. The only ones who bothered to wish him were Iceland and – what was his name again? – that guy who looked a lot like Amerika...Amerika's brother...ah! Yes, Canada. Matvey. Oh, and Natalya. But being stuc – he meant spending the day with her alone at a party, no less – because at parties you had knives, (The reason why he switched to blunt plastic cutlery and locked away the silver during Natalya's stalking – er, visits. Yes, visits.)and even plastic knives could be formidable in the hands of his sister – did not exactly feature on his Top Ten Favourite Ways to Spend His Birthday (or any normal day, for that matter).
Forget Top Ten. Not in his Top Ten Billion by far.
He made his way to the frozen river by the woods.
Why must his birthday be in the time of Winter?
It was just like all the other days. He would be alone today, too, just like all the days the year around.
No different.
Sometimes he even wondered why he bothered to think of this day as special.
"Found you, arscheloch." a certain red eyed nation's voice cut through his rather depressive thoughts.
The silverette huffed, obviously having run all the way to there.
"Why are you so hard to find, Idiot?"
"What are you doing here." He asked, as if the question wasn't really a question.
"The Awesome Me came over to kick your ass." Prussia smirked – or rather, kesesese'd, not noticing and / or not fazed by the apparent lack of curiosity in the other. "But since today's your birthday and all, I won't. 'Cos I am just that awesome. Not that you don't already know that."
Russia sniffed a little, but otherwise they were silent, before Prussia shattered it – again.
"See, the Vodka West is producing can beat yours hands- down any day."
Russia gave an annoyed sniff at this. "That bottle you are holding is Russian Vodka, tovarish."
Gilbert gave him a frown before falling silent. Then he defended himself with a bright smirk and "I couldn't very well come here empty-handed, and I forgot the beer, so I needed something to drink, right? But you can keep it, since you are all pouting and stuff, and I am feeling awesome today – like always – and don't want any of your innocent citizens to get beat up with a pipe."
"You overuse that word..." Russia muttered.
"Prussia wiggled his eyebrows. "One, you are getting off-topic, swine. Two, I am awesome, so it should be alright."
Some more silence, in which Russia slowly emptied the bottle while Prussia talked to his pet yellow chick – Gilbird – about how awesome he was today, and yesterday, and the day before, and how awesome he will be today, tomorrow, and the day after. Russia sensed a pattern and didn't interrupt the albino from his day dreams.
When the Sun painted the Western Sky crimson, Prussia suddenly jumped up, yelling something along the lines of being late and "West would kill me f***dammit." Russia assumed it was past Prussia's curfew hours, and although it would have been strange for someone as old as him to have one, since it was Prussia, he supposed it made perfect sense.
Russia sat watching and waiting as Prussia ran out, shouting out "Kick your ass later"s and "Be awesome – or is that too much for you"s...
...and promptly turned back to him, sorely out of breath to..
"What was that for?" Russia asked to Prussia, who was making a show of wiping his lips. Prussia frowned. "Its a Tradition to kiss the Birthday Boy."
"Funny..." Russia mused, "I have never heard of such a German Tradition..."
"Thats because it is Prussian. And so it is awesome." Prussia retorted, before fleeing towards the west again.
Russia sighed and tilted his head back to look at the sun.
He had learnt years ago not to question something that was good for him. For example, he never asked Gilbert why it was that this compulsion to kick Russia's ass awoke within his breast only once a year and only on Russia's birthday, why he claimed the Russian to be hard to find even though he was always rught here, on the frozen river bank every year on this day, or why and how he always forgot to bring beer and brought a bottle of vodka that he gave to him, or about the sunflowers he would find his room decorated with when he returned home, or why he always placed a hand on top of Russia's and his head on Russia's shoulders during their small yearly get together on his birthday.
He watched the lean figure dashing through the snow, before letting a warm, genuine smile grace his lips.
Yes, it was a tradition.
Their own Tradition.
Because whether Gilbert admitted it or not, he came here for Russia, and whether Ivan admitted it or not, he waited here for the Prussian.
Sometimes I think this day is no special than the others.
Thank you, moy lyubov, for reminding me.
A/N: lol fluff fluff fluff dances around Oh and Bunny Pair = Pure Love~!
Ascheloch (German): Ass hole
Tovaris (Russian) : Friend
Moy Lyubov (Russian) : My Love.
Review and I will review back provided you have a fic in a fandom I know (though it will take some time)