A/N: Okay, as this was written for a friend, I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing with this pairing. I'd love some input on how I did with the personalities and aspects of the pairing- my intention was to write this without the usual rape or angst of the norm (a very difficult thing to do, from what I've gathered…). Not to mention how I generally write series as opposed to oneshots… Without further ado, I present you with Bonding Time with a Sadist. Enjoy and Review~!

Toris Lorinaitis was, to be frank, having a bad day. The morning itself had not started off particularly bad- it just seemed to have progressed into something far more unnerving. The brunette sat amidst a field of snow, leaning his full weight against the slick, icy wooden back of the park bench, gazing around at all of the crystalline flakes that plunged helplessly from the sky. Not a single other being appeared to be present, as the Lithuanian's emerald eyes scanned the premises- or, rather, the other civilians chose not to go out on such an obscurely cold day. Only Toris remained sitting there, silently contemplating his current situation.

He had woken that morning in a relatively good mood, actually- but then he had made the mistake of trying to visit Feliks. He should have known better, considering what uncanny events had taken place the last time he had come over to chat. Those were particular topics that he absolutely loathed thinking back on. Anyway, back at Feliks' house, preparations had been made for a complete remodeling of his house, and poor, unsuspecting Toris had been dragged into the turmoil that was modernizing the estate- why, the Lithuanian didn't even see any reason to remodel, as the house had seemed perfectly fine beforehand. But, as it was, once the Polish man decided upon something, he generally stuck to it… at the expenses of those around him, usually.

He had managed to make it through his best friend's remodeling frenzy by lunchtime and had opted to meet Natalia for a date. Leave it to the Belarusian to either set him up or get mildly distracted by her own personal spouse of choice. Toris always felt a bit discouraged when Natalia would chase after Ivan in such a way- for one, it wasn't healthy, and then there was the bizarre subject of how, exactly, she had managed to fall for such a… whatever the hell that Russian man was, as no words in his native language could entirely sum up Ivan.

So, as it was, Toris had eaten a simple lunch of lapienė soup with a side of toasted bread at a nearby diner and, after a half hour of wandering aimlessly around town, wound up at the park, thus the reason why he currently sat, hunched over upon a park bench, twiddling his thumbs and gazing up at the sky. Cup of cheap black tea in hand, Toris tapped along the outside of the paper container with his fingers, observing the gloomy, dull glow of the sky above with a melancholic boredom. While he had deeply regretted everything that had occurred this day, he couldn't help but feel mildly uninterested in anything else.

Not that this boredom was short-lived.

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Ivan Braginski released a sleepy yawn, wiping the drowsy insomnia from his violet eyes, grinning slightly as he walked leisurely down the pathway that lead towards the restaurant. He had chosen this particular day to eat out, for once, though he hadn't the slightest clue which restaurant he would decide to eat in. Gazing around, he spotted a quaint little shop, not too far from his current position, and-

"Ivan!" called a voice, all too familiar to the poor Russian. Indeed, as he continued to walk forward- hopeful to avoid the dreaded gaze of that psychotic woman at all costs, for fear it may possess him out of control- he found himself staring most unwillingly into the unwavering eyes of Natalia. It felt as though those horrid eyes were burning a searing hole clean through his twisted soul, leaving little remnants of scorched muscle and bloody organs… How pleasant, no? And then there was that voice… like cheese graters scraping against the chalkboard of his eardrums… He couldn't figure out for the life of him why anyone would have any sort of interest in her (romantically, at least), especially Toris. What could anyone see in this freakish woman of deathly premonition? It was enough to make him cry- or at least, it would have been, had he the ability to truly break down into tears. Ah well, he had lost that talent back during the Cold War. Ah, yet another thing to blame that wretched brat America for~!

Ivan released a shaky sigh and brought a hand up in a failed attempt to wave. He loved his sister, of course, but couldn't help but wish she were a bit less… erm, clingy? If only Toris and Raivis were the same way… "Hi, Natalia. What are you doing here?"

"That doesn't matter. You're marrying me. Let's go." That was pretty much the typical response from the Belarusian. Needless to say, this happened on a pretty regular basis. Ivan coughed into his fist, all the same, and averted his gaze to the space behind her. Surely… that couldn't be…?

But, indeed, sitting at a bench not far from their current position was Toris, twiddling his thumbs and kicking up the snow at his feet in boredom. That was it- Toris could keep him company, or at least give him a place to go while evading Natalia! "Natalia, think you can do me a favor? I've been trying to find some good, quality vodka around here, and-"

But, before he had the chance to complete his request, Natalia was off, searching frantically around the other side of town, most likely. Now he just needed to make it over to Toris before the Lithuanian completely freaked and fled for his life.

And if that happened? Well, the Russian would just need to be a bit more… persuasive, da?

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Oh, no… Oh, God, no! Toris felt his grip tighten subconsciously around the little cup nestled between gloved hands as his eyes caught sight of Ivan Braginski, approaching the Lithuanian with that sadistic smile upon his face. What's he doing here? Oh, man, I'm done for! Never had he had all that much resistance to anything the Russian tried to do, even after he had seceded and broken away a few decades ago (had it really been that short of a time period? Even Toris couldn't keep track anymore…).

Ivan merely smiled as he came upon the shorter man, cracking a smile that looked more forced and somewhat psychotic than anything else. He looked like a wolf bearing its fangs before a wounded caribou, in all honesty, but Toris bit his tongue and pretended not to notice his former… er, acquaintance.

"Anyone else sitting here?" Ivan asked, speaking through gritted teeth as he took a seat beside the Lithuanian, paying no mind to whether or not Toris cared. Eh, what did that little nation's opinions matter anyway? Russia could crush Lithuania with his thumb, all the while sipping some vodka or nibbling on some curds… Toris couldn't help but give a little convulsing shudder at the mere idea of it, feeling the scars on his back throb with a mostly-psychological pain. "So, any particular reason why you're here?"

Toris opened his mouth to respond, but instead thought better of it and shut his lips together once more. What could he possibly say to this sadist? Well, he could say many things, but none of which were particularly appealing… especially if he valued his dear life and the survival of his nation. "Not…" He cleared his throat, flustered a bit at the sudden crack his voice had given. "Not really. I just… felt like getting some, um, tea…"

The two continued to sit in an awkward silence. Toris proceeded to tap his fingertips along the cup's outer edge, nibbling his bottom lip absentmindedly and gazing off at a group of children, all playing in a circle with broad smiles worn upon their faces. Ivan, on the other hand, seemed pretty intent looking frantically in every which direction, a task that surprised Toris to a certain degree, considering how composed and (frighteningly) calm the Russian often seemed on his normal (if you could really call them that) days. Though, before long, Toris found himself shuddering a bit, shoulders racking as he felt Ivan's stare fall back upon him, violet irises embedding their gaze into the coat-shielded back of the shorter man.

"Um… Ivan, do you want something?" Toris almost asked, though bit it back and instead returned to his cup, sipping some more of the warm drink and sighing a bit, eyes now averted to the ground, though they did shift occasionally, to assure himself that Ivan was still within his sights and not doing… well, god knows what else that creep did in his spare time.

"Hm? Everything alright, Toris?" Ivan asked, playful smile gracing his lips as the words slid off of his tongue, sounding almost bitter as he desperately attempted to avert Toris' attention from the young woman known formally as Belarus, Natalia, and Sudden Death.

Toris hesitated, a bit astounded that such a, well, normal question could sprout forth from such a sadistic man. "No, no… it's just F-" He abruptly halted himself, wondering a bit as to why on earth he would speak so openly to the Russian nation. What was coming over him as of late? "I'm fine."

Ivan made absolutely no acknowledgement, though mentally reminded himself to track down all nearby peoples whose names began with the letter "F" and personally introduce them to his loving companion, the pipe.

"A-And besides…" Toris continued, tugging anxiously at his collar. "Why does it matter what I feel? Eh heh… You should be out, enjoying yourself. Don't waste your time with me…"

Ivan cocked his head to the side a bit, violet eyes observing him with the utmost curiosity. But then, from the corner of his eye, a flash of motion caught his attention, and he spotted Natalia, asking another shopkeeper a few yards away if he had any quality vodka. A slight shudder echoing from within his body, the Russian rose from his spot, anxious about his younger sister finding their whereabouts. He had had quite enough of Natalia's antics for one day- no, scratch that, one lifetime. "Toris!"

The Lithuanian nearly leapt a foot out of his skin, flinching uncontrollably from the other nation's sudden outburst. "Y-Yes?"

"Let's-! Um… Let's go over there!" Giving one last feeble glance at the Belarusian nation, Ivan pointed out a small shop, veiled from the view of Natalia at such a distance.

"To… the ice cream shop?" Toris inquired, eyebrows rising in question.

"Oh…" Ivan cleared his throat, watching as Natalia neared their current position; though, thankfully, their forms had yet to be seen by the overly determined female nation. "A-Ah, yeah, let's go!" Ivan himself had always held a bit of a grudge against ice cream, as the frozen treat reminded him all too much of the trepidation that arose with General Winter. It was also quite sweet, sickeningly so, and very fattening, which brought back memories of Alfred, and all of his damned, fatty-food stupidity. Ivan would give anything to take that nation's throat, rip the vocal chords from their place, and leave him in the street to rot... Regardless, he nodded reassuringly and insisted that they leave immediately.

Toris preceded onward, tossing his cup into a trash bin and hesitantly walking in front of Ivan towards the shop. The scents of vanilla cream wafted into his nostrils, making his (rather upset) stomach gurgle in a strange hunger- a temporary hunger, as his stomachache would likely return with Ivan around, but a hunger nonetheless. He approached the counter, paying for two chocolate cones- he thought it wise not to ruin the strangely outgoing mood that the Russian was in, and opted to pay for the ice cream. He handed one to Ivan, avoiding the other's gaze, and sat down at the table, across from his Russian… um, acquaintance. For, really what were the two of them? They were not, by any means, friends, nor were they comrades any longer. They weren't really allies, but weren't enemies… Their relationship, or lack thereof, was just… special, he presumed.

… And then there was the frightening way that Ivan kept looking at him, almost forcing himself not to grab the Lithuanian and hijack him to Siberia. What on earth was going through that sadistic man's mind at that moment? Was he actually trying to be genuinely friendly? Or was he perhaps trying to get to the Lithuanian's better side, so he could ask- which generally meant threat or blackmail- a favor of him? It was downright peculiar, the sudden friendliness.

But, as they sat in the shop for a half-hour or so, he found that, though their conversations were clumsy and awkward, they weren't ready to claw each other's throats out, either. Perhaps there was more to their affiliation than he had previously expected.

Time passed, and he bid a final farewell to the Russian. Ivan nodded hastily, waving and exiting the shop. Well, that wasn't quite as horrible as he had expected. Granted, Ivan had expected it to go by fairly horribly, but that wasn't the point. For once, he felt… almost a bit content.

But, alas, a hand soon gripped his shoulder, and a feminine voice whispered into his ear.

"I have found the vodka, brother."

And Ivan's not-so-horrible day soon changed drastically.

~w~w~w~

A/N: … Alright, that sucked. I'm genuinely sorry- I cannot write Russia very well. He has a complex personality, really, that makes him difficult to get in character. Sorry if this wasn't what you were looking for, I tried my best! I hope it was at least entertaining, even if I did just waste five minutes of your life. I wouldn't mind a few review though, so please be generous. Go ahead and bash me, I don't mind. T^T

R&R~!