This is a bit short but urk. I like it. x3 Dedicated to Kisa, as always~
Ivan wasn't quite sure when this had started.
"Welcome, Lithuania." If the smaller country noticed his smile was fake, he never showed it.
"It's nice we can visit each other Russia."
"Da, Lithuania~" And oh, it hurt. The fake smiles, the pretending.
It was all very predictable by now.
"Some vodka Lithuania?" The brunette would smile.
"Only a small glass please." The blond would return the smile.
"Of course~" He'd hum, and hand a shot to the Lithuanian. Said Lithuanian would take the shot glass, and a single shot would become five, which would become too many to count.
Lithuania was an absentminded, yet serious drunk. He'd putter on about how his friendship with Poland was improving- they had finally begun to trust again.
"You look nice today, Toris." Ivan could only bring himself to use the brunette's real name when said man was too drunk to notice.
"Th'nks. You uh, y'look nice too." Ivan hummed, holding the smaller man's hand. It was so warm. So warm compared to his own frigid appendages.
"You don't just look nice Toris, you look beautiful." The brunette would blush, and hide his face before taking another hearty swig from the bottle of vodka clutched firmly in his hand.
Ivan would take the man's face into his hands, and trace the delicate features with his thumbs.
"So very beautiful." Ivan would lean in, and press his cool lips against the other's warm ones. Lithuania would be hesitant at first, but would soon lean into the kiss. Ivan would push the shirt covering those slim shoulders away, and it would escalate from there.
It was then Ivan would show the Lithuanian his true feelings.
"Я люблю тебя Toris. I love you." He would then show the brunette just how much he truly loved him- so different than the harsh cruelty he was mistaken with in the past. Tender kisses, gentle caresses...
Even though Ivan felt horribly guilty about the scars disfiguring the Lithuanian's back, he couldn't bring himself to wish they weren't there. They proved that even the slightest bit of the Lithuanian still belonged to him.... even if his heart would never belong to Ivan. He would run his fingers across them, memorizing the map they had become.
And when it was done, Ivan would hold the man close, whispering anything and everything to him. How his eyes sparkled like emeralds, how his smile made his heart feel less heavy then it usually did. And then when the Lithuanian fell asleep, Ivan would simply hold him close. Run his fingers through the silky brown waves, feel the warm breath on his cheek.
And as the sun rose, Russia would lift the man, careful not to rouse him, dress him, and then lay him down in the guest bedroom. The brunette would wake up sore and hung-over, but he never guessed. After breakfast, the man would leave, back to his own house.
And Ivan was left alone once again. He'd look around the cold emptiness that was his dwelling. (Never 'home'- home was where your heart is, and Ivan's heart was in Lithuania.) He had caused his makeshift family to draw away from him after all. And there was nothing Ivan wanted more than for them all to be together.
There might be a sequel of sorts to this, but it all depends on how much people like this one~