2016-08-12- Edits have been done. I apologize if the change is not liked, but I was not happy with a particular scene and some other things so I scrapped them.
This is a companion to The Warmth That Thaws A Winter Heart but can also be read on its own as a one-shot. For clarification's sake, this takes place after the Soviet Union, in modern times.
Thank you CastingWhiteShadows for your editing support.
Russia clutched the crinkling paper bag to his chest as he unlocked the front door with tensed muscles holding up against the freezing shock of the wind. The moment the door was unlocked it was blasted inwards, slamming against the wall while a gust of wind blew snow inside as elegant swirls before the flakes slowly fell and spread out far across the floor. Once Latvia had kicked the snow off his boots and had hopped in, Russia shoved against the storm and got the door closed and firmly shut with a click of the lock.
He dropped the bag of groceries to the side as they started taking off their winter clothes. Russia quickly brushed the snow from his hair in quick sweeps of gloved hands over his head, and he smiled as he shook his head and scattered the drops of water that had started to drip down his face in all directions. He watched Latvia running his hands through his own hair, then said with a cheerful ring in his voice, "Let's not be going out again today. Let's stay inside and be warm!"
"Yes, that sounds nice," Latvia said with a white smile flashing across his face.
Latvia trailed after him into the kitchen where Russia was now setting the bag on the counter before heading to the sink and washing his hands. Toweling his hands, he came to Russia's side then accepted a bag of potatoes and carrots to take care of. Each of them had their own cutting boards and knives, and Latvia arranged a few empty bowls out in front of him before he began to cut.
Russa was beside him as he filled up the pot with tap water from the sink, but then he dropped it down on the stove and clicked on the low heat. Latvia soon heard him slicing an onion and throwing the pieces in with little plopping sounds. The lid was dropped back on before Russia came over and washed his hands once more.
They would have some time before it was right to add the next round of ingredients composed of potatoes, carrots, quinoa, and two bay leaves. At least, that was strictly following the borscht recipe they were trying out today. So with this extra time, Russia came over to stroke Latvia's left arm before pressing up against him and hugging him softly. Latvia felt warm tranquility stirring in his chest, and he looked down at the carrots in front of him with a relaxed gaze. Latvia cut them slowly, being careful as he made thin, evenly cut rings. Russia let his eyes fall closed as he calmly held Latvia, feeling so relaxed and almost drowsy as a smile tinged his face. His fingers played over Latvia's ribs, riding over the bumpy bones, grazing his skin so lightly that eventually Latvia gasped when it tickled, and Russia stopped with a little laugh in his breath.
Latvia dropped the carrots he had just cut into their individual bowl, filling it to the top. Latvia began cutting up the potatoes as Russia moved away slightly so he could bend down and rest his head over Latvia's. He watched Latvia's hands working while his chin was cushioned by the delightful softness of Latvia's downy hair, but then he could no longer see as he tilted his head forward a bit to hide his nose in the fluffiness.
Latvia laughed when Russia started to nuzzle his hair and slip his arms back around him. He heard the other humming happily as he pressed his face against his, rubbing the soft hairs of his cheek against Latvia's. Latvia would have pet the side of his face if his hands were not sprayed with vegetable juice, so he just turned his face and nuzzled him back. This delighted Russia, who breathed out pleasantly and broadened his smile.
He reluctantly departed to go start grating the beets, and as he left he rubbed his hand briefly over Latvia's back, fingertips breezing away although the warmth of his touch still tingled Latvia's skin.
Latvia finished up this part of the chopping, and then went to the stove to start adding in the ingredients. His small hand lifted the lid and he looked over the golden colour of the shimmering water before he tilted the bowl of potatoes into the pot. He went back and forth, repeating the process with the other two bowls. He tossed in the leaves as well, before covering back up the pot and returning to his station to finely chop up some kale.
Russia glanced down at both his hands, which were now covered in reddish-purple, looking as though a paint brush had been stroked over his palm and fingers. He stopped then glanced over at Latvia with a cheerful and hyper light in his eyes. Latvia did not notice he was being watched as he crammed a handful of kale into one of the bowls.
When Latvia turned and walked by him, having remembered to add some salt and pepper to start seasoning the soup, Russia tried to contain his mischievous smile. The moment Latvia had put down the shakers, Russia reached out and held onto one of the hanging hands with his own. Latvia did not realize at first what the motive was, so he stopped and blinked at Russia in confusion. He faced Russia, who still concealed his smile as he ran his other hand all the way down Latvia's right arm before he held his other hand.
After but a second, realization struck Latvia as he felt the stickiness clinging to his hairs and starting to dry. He snapped his head down and saw the stains of beet juice that ran all the way down his arm to one of his now sticky, juice-covered hands. As Latvia's eyes widened further in pseudo horror as he stared at his other hand that was enveloped in Russia's red and purple one, Russia's giggles finally broke free as Latvia gasped out a protest of, "Hey!"
Russia was still shaking with laughter. Latvia fake scoffed and stood up on his toes to pat Russia's face, leaving three red-purple fingerprints on his cheek before he went to the sink and cleaned himself off. Russia did not bother washing off the new tattoo he had acquired, so he went back to powerfully shredding the next beet in his hand over the cheese grater, filling up his the bowl. He filled up another as Latvia retrieved lemon juice from the fridge and set it on the counter.
This time, because he had nothing to occupy himself with, he sat up on a stool and swung one leg slightly as he watched Russia moving his arm forcefully back and forth. At one point he switched hands and continued on at a steady pace, and he worked swiftly so that soon he was done and washing off his hands and rubbing off that sticky spot on his face.
Russia rolled his shoulders, sighed, and smiled as he took one of the filled little bowls. He lifted the lid and said, "I like this part. It is always fun."
Latvia nudged him and looked into the pot as Russia dumped the beets in. The golden water did not change until Russia stirred the contents once, and instantly an explosion of the red-purple swept around the pot, drowning out everything else in its bold colour. When the second bowl was added, the colour intensified after another stir, making it hard to remember what colour the water had had before. It was merely as though a spell had been cast upon the soup, and the spoon was the magic wand.
Kale, a spray of lemon juice, and more seasoning. Latvia dipped the wooden spoon back into the pot and stirred around the contents a few times before he tapped the dyed water off the spoon on the edge of the pot and set it down.
"Now we wait," Russia purred as he already came over to him.
Latvia accepted his now clean hand, and he lead him to the cozy room with the fireplace and couch. Russia went over and started up a fire to alleviate them of the coldness that had crept into the room before he joined Latvia on the couch. He draped an arm over the back of the couch and opened up a spot for Latvia to nestle in beside him.
Russia quickly flashed his eyes at a small clock ticking on the shelf before he said to Latvia, "Would you like to be eating by the fire?"
"Yeah, okay."
"The rest of the house is cold," Russia said. "Do you want to stay here tonight? Maybe the storm is not going to be letting up."
Latvia perked and said, "How about instead of sleeping on the couch, we bring over blankets and spread them out over the floor? All we have to do is move the table out of the way."
Russia perked, and he gasped enthusiastically, "Let's bring down all the blankets and pillows! We can snuggle by the fire!"
Latvia smiled pleasantly when he was hugged and given the lightest kiss on the temple.
"This is a very good idea," Russia smiled. "Cuddle night… ah, and maybe we can make cocoa and have some sweet snacks? Hmm, and maybe you want to play some games too?"
Latvia felt once again very warm inside to see Russia becoming so ecstatic. He leaned his head back against Russia's bicep and looked over to him with gleeful, shining eyes.
"Yeah," Latvia said. "That sounds really fun. And maybe we can play chess?"
"Mm, definitely!" Russia laughed and pressed his face into his hair. "And maybe I will win this time!"
Latvia only laughed in response, and the all-knowing grin he flashed Russia made the other chuckle even more.
They went back to the kitchen where Latvia stirred the soup and added more salt and pepper. Afterwards, they headed to Russia's room and stripped the bed bare, gathering massive balls of sheets and covers in their arms with pillows hidden somewhere within. They padded down the hall and peeked out from behind the masses in front of them, occasionally dropping a pillow along the way and struggling to recollect it. Latvia let one of these pillows go after the struggle to reattain it had been too great, deciding that a return trip could be taken.
They dropped their loads on the couch before Russia picked up the table and carried it to the side of the room. Together they spread out the sheets, threw over the thick covers, and then tossed the pillows on top. Latvia walked out back into the hall to find the pillow he had dropped, and Russia trailed along.
Once found, he came over and snatched it by the corner before they both headed back. However, his good-natured hyperness made his face lift in excitement, and he leapt upwards and whipped the pillow at Russia's back. The other froze in surprise, but had immediately realized what had just occurred. Latvia was already wandering over with a grin smacked on his face, and Russia smiled back although he turned and bent down to snatch the pillow before Latvia could.
Latvia gasped in fake fear as Russia sprang at him and threw the pillow back. Russia was consciously gentle when he threw it, trying to be sure he did not throw it too hard and cause the pillow to explode in Latvia's face and give him a good red mark. Latvia merely caught it, but during the distraction Russia captured him and scooped him up into his arms. He was held carefully to his chest, but Latvia relentlessly smacked the face close to him with the pillow until he was put back down.
"You are so violent today," Russia laughed while pouncing at him.
Latvia tried to dive away, but he crashed into the wall and could not escape when two arms blocked him on either side. Latvia shot out a hand to Russia's chest and raised his other arm to strike with his cushiony weapon as a fierce, warish light glimmered in his eyes. Russia swiftly grabbed his rising arm and then pinned it along with the other to his side, gentle but restraining him.
"Viscous kotik," he murmured affectionately.
Latvia smiled and calmed himself down. When his muscles relaxed, Russia let him go and they walked back. Latvia tossed the pillow onto their makeshift bed on the floor before they went into the kitchen for the soup. Russia turned off the stove and took the pot off the heater, while Latvia reached up on his tiptoes to take out bowls and cups from the cupboards. He retrieved spoons as well, and he slung a towel over his shoulder before following Russia to the other room.
He put the dishes onto the table, folded the towel and placed it down so Russia could put the hot pot over it. Latvia scurried off to retrieve a pitcher of water, and he fetched a few napkins to take back with him. Russia had already organized the bowls, spoons, and glasses that had been in a jumbled pile, then he took the ladle that had been sitting in the pot to serve the steaming soup. He finished doing this as Latvia poured water into their cups, and when Russia finished, he shuffled away before turning and pushing off the floor with his toes to flop onto the bed.
Latvia set the pitcher down, looked over at Russia, and breathed out in amusement to see him laying plopped and unresponsive on his stomach with his arms stretched out in front of him. He slid across the blankets then threw himself over Russia's back so that he was perpendicularly laying over him. Russia coughed at the sudden impact, but Latvia apologized with a laugh then turned and hugged him by placing his arms on either side of his rib cage and squeezing. He slid up more and curled his legs up to the side of Russia. He put his hands over his shoulders then laid down his head by Russia's.
"The soup is too hot," Russia commented.
Latvia let him turn over before he nestled up against him and triggered his cuddle response. Russia enveloped him with tender arms, holding him close, and closing his eyes as Latvia did.
After a while Russia lifted his head and saw that the steam had stopped rising from their bowls. Latvia looked up when he did, and exclaimed, "Oh, the food is ready!"
They sat up, and Russia gave him one quick hug before they took their bowls and cups. They came back and sat on the bed, being careful when they ate not to spill anything on the blankets. The cups as well sat out of the way and to their sides.
Latvia scooted over to his side and pressed against him just to be close. The soft and almost tickling touch of that warmth to his side made Russia's heart beat placidly, his body melting in response to the feeling of pure bliss. They said nothing as they ate; they just raised their spoons and were conscious of the absolute peace and enjoyment they felt being close to each other.
They went back for a few refills, still saying nothing but still leaning into each other. Latvia set his spoon into his empty bowl with a little clatter, and he retrieved his cup to finish it off in a swallow. Then he set everything back on the table and wiped off his face, and Russia soon came up to do the same.
"When do you want to make the cocoa?" Russia asked.
"Let's take a break first," he replied. "I'm full."
"Chess for now then?"
"You're on."
A chessboard with finely carved and polished pieces was pulled out from the closet. Russia smoothed out an area on the blankets to put it down, and Latvia caressed the surface of the wood before he started adding pieces to the sides with precise thunks. Russia randomly gathered up some pieces and he began helping with the setup, following Latvia's decision to make him take the white side.
"Do you want some music?" Russia asked. "I can go get my laptop."
"Yeah, that'd be nice."
Russia received a smile that softened his insides. He left the room, and by the time he returned with it opened and powering on in the crook of his arm, the chessboard was ready and Latvia was lying on his stomach, glaring at it. His face held rigid seriousness in its features; a sign that Latvia was trapped in serious thought. Russia placed the laptop between them to the side of the board, took the cord, and plugged it into the wall. When he turned and looked back at Latvia, who was still intensely locked onto that board, he said with a laugh intertwined in his voice, "Are you already beating me?"
"Hmm?"
"You already know all the moves I am going to be making?"
Latvia's tense face vanished as a smile spread across his face in a flash.
"No," he laughed, "I am just deciding my opening moves!"
"Am I not starting?"
"You are," Latvia grinned. "But I'm trying to guess which opening you will use."
Russia chuckled again said, "You are so intense."
Latvia tried to prevent a wider smile from overtaking his face, for he at least wanted to be modest. However, the effort caused his face to go warm and for pink bands to burn his cheeks. He could feel his own blush, so he propped up his elbow, hid his left cheek in his cupped hand and turned his face to the side.
He was not permitted to escape teasing so easily. Russia clicked his tongue softly off the roof of his mouth before exhaling with the word "aww" a whisper on his breath. Russia then came around closer to him, pushing the laptop close to the face that was trying to hide itself from him.
"You can pick the songs," Russia said.
Latvia lifted his head and quickly checked Russia. The other was staring at him in amusement with his eyes tranquilly half-lidded and a gentle smile still on his lips; such a smile never seemed to disappear whenever he was with Latvia. He gazed over the face of the person sitting behind the laptop, distracted for a few seconds by the bright violet eyes that had enchanting waves of dark colour artistically sewn into the irises.
He looked down at the unlocked screen with its desktop background of a field of sunflowers. The white cursor swept over to open the Internet, then small hands placed themselves on the keyboard and quickly tapped until one hand moved the cursor to select the previous search: YouTube. Latvia typed in something again, and then he selected the song.
Latvia announced, "Tell me if you don't like the song, and I'll change it."
Russia hummed a cheerful affirmation before he slid back over to his spot across the chessboard. As the song began its first notes, he lifted his hand over the pieces and then selected a pawn, sliding it forward.
"What's that again?" Russia inquired as he struggled to recall the name of that iconic tune.
"The Pirates of the Caribbean."
Russia laughed lightly then reacted to the move Latvia had made. Latvia continued to play fast-paced songs to set the mood for their games, which instead of pressuring them only made the game more amusing and less serious. When the game had finally been concluded, with Latvia as the victor due to his excessive mental practice, they packed it up together. Then, Russia slid over to him, exhaling softly as he lowered his head and nuzzled Latvia's face with his own.
"That was fun," Russia whispered into his ear.
Latvia put a thumb over Russia's lips and his other fingers curled up under his chin. He touched his forehead against his, and Russia closed his eyes, his lips pulling out into a warm smile. He did not say anything as he looked nothing but content. Latvia lowered his hand then leaned forward to gently embrace him.
"That was such a long game," Latvia chatted against Russia's chest. "Should we be making the cocoa now? I got hungry again."
"Okay," he replied. "And something else too? I thought of something really good we could bake. It will only take about thirty minutes."
"Really? What is it then?"
"Honey-roasted pears."
Latvia gasped and looked up at him. "Yeah, that sounds like excellent idea!"
They stood up, collected the things from dinner, and took them back to the kitchen. After a trip to the bathroom that had them emerging with washed hands, they were excitedly back in the kitchen and pulling everything that they would need out. Russia bent down, pulled open a fridge drawer, and retrieved a crinkling plastic bag full of bosc pears. Latvia set the oven so that it would preheat itself while they prepped everything else, and then he fetched a clean tray, cutting board, and knife while Russia found the rest of the ingredients.
Latvia knew what to do, so he began slicing the pears in half and removing the stems while clearing out the hard, seedy cores completely with twists of the spoon. Russia spread a baking sheet out over the tray, taking the completed pears and laid them out next to each other, some flipped upside down so that they could be squeezed in close to each other. He sprinkled cinnamon over every halved pear he was given, tucked in walnuts into the little bowl that was the pear's empty core, then he drizzled honey over it all, a pool in the core and crosses zigzagging over the flat parts.
Before the tray was put into the warm oven, Latvia cast a glance over them. He already believed they looked delicious, and imagining what they were going to look like made his heart flutter excitedly. The heavy oven door was opened, and then it closed to seal the tray tightly inside. Russia then turned the heat up before he faced Latvia, telling him, "We can come back in fifteen minutes."
Latvia nodded then ushered him back onto the blankets with him. Latvia lay down onto his side, then Russia slid in beside him and cuddled him. Time went by pleasantly but surprisingly fast, and soon they stopped spooning to get up to check on the pears and throw a pot of water on the stove to boil. They then returned back to their sleeping area on the floor. Latvia lay on his back this time, and Russia shifted over to Latvia's side, placing his head over his chest and shoulder to use as a pillow. The side of his face that was pressed against him was warm. Russia closed his eyes as the arm around him bent and a hand slipped through his ashen-blonde hair, his fingers gently caressing in circles.
Many times Russia held him, but there was something especially enjoyable when he got to be held by Latvia. The touch was caring; Latvia wished only kindness to him and bringing him such inner peace. Russia had always wanted to be affectionate with others, but no one else trusted him enough. He placed a hand on Latvia's opposite side, and he pressed his fingers on his too easily breakable bones while he listened to the steady, relaxed thumping that emanated from just below his ear. Strong, but so easily quenchable. Russia wondered why it was he who was the one to feel so safe curled up with the other.
Latvia's fear had now long since vanished, yet there was always a prick of worry in Russia's chest every time he approached Latvia, wrapping his arms around him or holding his hand. He had a sort of fear that Latvia would do something that would deeply wound him, like if he were to push him away and turn from him without explanation. Every time he came close, Russia feared such rejection. Latvia did not understand this yet. Russia thanked him so often for wanting to be with him and for always being so kind. However, Latvia would always tilt his head at him and reply that he never needed to thank him, because he was always happy with him and that he loved to make him happy too. Latvia would never say a "you're welcome" as though he was providing a service. Not when he had been given so much in return from Russia as well.
That hand stroking through his hair was enough for Russia's fear to fade once again and for the cleanest happiness to fill him. Now he felt safe, trusting the hands- trusting Latvia, to treat him tenderly, to not rip out his heart and tear it into shreds that would be difficult to heal.
He wondered if perhaps a day would come when he no longer would feel fear, but he was more certain that day would never come because he could never forget the things he had done back in the Soviet Era to this breakable body. To the small bones under his hand. Latvia had forgiven him, and he did all that he could to get Russia to forgive himself although he had yet to succeed with this completely. More time would be needed, for Latvia could not know how his own screams sounded, and what it was like to wash hot blood from one's hands and watch it swirl down the drain until all the red was gone.
Latvia had checked the clock on the laptop, and he now switched to rubbing between Russia's shoulder blades. After another while, he stopped and brought around his other arm to clasp his own left hand; a small hug behind Russia's neck.
He then murmured, "Wake up. It's time to take out the pears."
He stirred, pulled away from Latvia, then stood up with him. This time, Latvia took his hand, and Russia's heart leapt slightly with elation as he clasped that hand back.
Already in the hall, the most heavenly of scents wafted towards them. The sweet and heavy scent of honey spiced with cinnamon engulfed the kitchen, which they excitedly inhaled deeply upon entering the room. Latvia went and put on the oven mitts that were far too large for him, then gingerly pulled the pears out from the oven. At the same time, Russia dug through his cupboards and retrieved a can of cocoa mix. When Latvia left the pears to cool, he turned to Russia and was shown the flavor written on the image.
"Peppermint cocoa?" he asked with eyebrows raised in interest.
"It was on sale last week after Christmas," Russia replied. "I bought it so we could maybe be trying it together."
Russia set it down and reached upwards to pull out two identical mugs for them both. He retrieved a spoon as well, and after popping open the lid, he scooped out the fine powder and put some in the bottom of both of their cups. He then pulled the pot of boiling water off the stove, and Latvia stepped out of the way for him.
The excess water was poured into the sink, and Russia set the hot pot on the stove to cool before he turned the heat off. Latvia had already taken off his mitts and turned off the oven's heat, and so now he had the small spoon in his hand, stirring the mix thoroughly in each cup for them both.
A hand placed itself on his shoulder, accompanied by the sound of shaking. Latvia moved for Russia to come in and spray a high spiral of whipped cream into both of their cups.
"There," Russia murmured conclusively.
They took the mugs of cocoa back to the room first, setting them on the towel still lying upon the table. In the kitchen again, Russia carefully placed the pears into one large bowl, and he took out two small plates, two knives, and two forks for them. Latvia helped him carry back everything and set it on the table.
While they gave everything a few minutes to cool down, the laptop was dragged close, and together they searched through the Russian equivalent of Netflix, to find something to watch. Like most times when they wanted to watch something together, they picked something new to see where it would lead. It was a fun gambit that sometimes lead to some stinkers that they could poke fun at together and laugh about. They always agreed to change movies if the movie revolved around someone's sex life, or if the movie turned out particularly gory. Russia hated to see Latvia grow so pale until he looked sick. Even if Latvia insisted in a wavering voice that they should finish the movie, Russia would always refuse.
"Okay, what is good movie for the cozy time?" Russia asked.
Latvia sat cross-legged and leaned forward as he scrolled down past a few categories. He passed by the American Comedy section that had scantily dressed women on the covers, before he curiously stopped at the horror category.
"Are you sure?" Russia asked.
"I can't watch them on my own," Latvia said. "But if you're here, it's okay."
Latvia skipped the gory suggestions and looked for a more spooky choice.
"As long as you are okay with it," Russia stressed.
"It's fine," Latvia reaffirmed, and then added with a blush, "I… I like when you hold me when I get scared too…"
Russia's cheeks felt warm as well. He grazed the back of his hand over Latvia's arm before he moved in closer and put his chin over his shoulder.
"I like it too," he whispered. "Not because you're scared, but because you are trusting me."
"Of course I trust you. You've kept me safe many times before."
He clicked on the title Paranormal Activity, something that neither of them had ever gotten around to watch yet despite how well-known the film was. They brought over everything off the table and set it up around them; cocoas at their sides and the bowl of pears and plates in front of them and the laptop. They scooched back against the couch in order to have something to lean back on, although they stuffed pillows behind them to make it more comfy.
The lights had been turned off, and now the darkness settled in with only the light of the fire still present in the background. Blankets were tucked over their laps and legs curled up to their sides, and they pressed close to each other. While they let the video load for a few minutes, they dragged out from the bowl a pear for each to try. Before this however, Latvia lifted the cup of hot chocolate to his face that blew a Christmassy scent up his nostrils. He thought of pine trees with candy canes hanging on their branches, and happy people gathered around them. It made the closeness he had with the person beside him more meaningful, and this drink more enjoyable.
Russia waited for him to lift his cup before he sipped his as well. Warm sweetness ran over their tongues, and after they swallowed, the refreshing peppermint prick could still tasted.
"Wow," Latvia breathed. "It's really good…"
They carefully put the cups down and out of the way before gathering their plates and setting them on their blanketed laps. They cut into the middle of their pears and watched the golden honey pour down onto their plates. They cut out cubes before both slid the forks into their mouths, which immediately caused expressions of euphoria to cross both of their faces.
"Oh my god…" Latvia whispered before taking another slice and hurriedly tasting it. A burst of warm sweetness overwhelmed his mouth; hot juice, cinnamon spice, and thick gold with a wonderful, nutty crunch. He finished his plate before Russia, and with his eyes still widened from surprise and delight, he turned his face and happily nuzzled his ribcage. Russia twitched as wonderful, tickly tingles ensued the touch, and he smiled while slipping his arm around him and encouraging him to be close.
"You like it?"
"Oh god, yes…" came the sigh. More soft nuzzles and chills followed, and Russia took a drink from his cup while feeling so warm on the inside from more than just the hot cocoa.
After one more pear each, they started the movie. Latvia blinked at the screen calmly as he leaned comfortably against Russia. Light washed both of their faces, changing from bright to dim as the video in front of them changed settings.
A lot of time passed before Latvia jumped and latched onto him. After a few strokes over his back, he calmed and nibbled at another pear. The spectacular flavor was enough to make it easier to distance himself from the creepy, inexplicable scenes on the computer, and for only a shiver to cross down his spine this time. However, watching the scene where the blankets moved on their own while the couple slept made Latvia's pulse increase; when the blankets lifted ever so slowly as something crawled in while the people were entirely ignorant to the presence beside them, his heart quivered and stuttered.
These scenes were not usually considered terrifying to the common audience, but Latvia's imagination was quite strong. He imagined himself alone in bed, sleeping until a chilled touch brushes his back and he awakens groggy-eyed before realizing that something is tugging at the blankets behind him. He had no idea how he would react to such a thing. What could he do, but run as fast as he could, screaming as loud as he could, despite how he had no chance of beating a supernatural creature to the door and that no one could save him because he lived alone?
Russia found Latvia pressing closer to him with the smallest of quivers disturbing him. He was not so scared yet, but Russia rubbed his back again to help distract him and to keep his mind from exploring horrifying situations. However, the movie only continued to supply Latvia with mind fuel, and a third of the way through, he was attached to Russia's side again and trembling much harder.
Russia shushed him and hugged him. His arms squeezed him, and Latvia quickly became aware of the tight warmth and closeness to a calm presence. A feeling of security chased away his thoughts, and it became hard to think of anything else but that moment. He was here, not in a horror movie. He was being held by someone so strong yet now so gentle, and he was so cozy among the blankets and pillows, by a warm fire where the storm outside could not touch them. He exhaled and calmed, for he knew that as long as he was with Russia, nothing would be allowed to harm him.
One more time, fear returned to him briefly. He pressed his pale face against Russia's side, and a hand crossed over and rested over the side of his face.
Russia took his eyes from the screen for a moment and he whispered down to him, "Don't worry zaichik, you are safe."
The sweet names always lifted his spirits. Russia often bestowed Russian terms of endearment upon him, even if he was speaking in English, he would throw in a Russian term because those words were more special to him than the English ones were. Sweet, diminutive animal words that felt so nice on the tongue to murmur to the person he cared about so much. Kitten, little mouse, and in this case, little rabbit. He used other words as well, such as sweetheart, my sun, and my joy. He usually did not utter these in public, but once they were alone inside, he would be more openly affectionate to him.
Latvia was still again. He smiled, and when his grip on Russia relaxed, Russia held him more softly. Latvia shifted his legs and curled his toes comfortably, loving the feeling of the covers gliding over his pants. With a focus on the pleasant little things, Latvia easily got through the rest of the movie with Russia.
The cocoa was now gone, but there were still many pears left in the bowl that they would save for the next day. They got up and stretched, and Russia flicked on the light as Latvia gathered up the bowl and plates. Russia fetched the cups, and they put everything away in the kitchen.
"It's getting late," Russia said. "We can be getting ready for bed."
Latvia agreed after taking a glance at the oven clock and realizing his tiredness. Russia left to his room, leaving Latvia to change into pyjamas in the bathroom and brush his teeth. When he was done, Russia slipped past him and went in. Latvia left and waited in the other room for him to come back.
Russia closed his laptop and unplugged it. He left it on the table, and he came back to the sleeping area with Latvia. The lights had not been turned off yet, for Russia felt that they would need a few minutes of winding down before they could go to sleep. His hands happily touched the fabric over Latvia's arms, smooth and silky to the touch.
"Can I help you relax?" he asked. Latvia knew what he meant, so he nodded.
Latvia turned his back to him as Russia shifted closer. He was hugged first, before fingers dug into the muscles of his shoulders. It had been so long since Russia had massaged him, but he would never lose his skill. He had the perfect hands; strong, but as always, careful with him.
"Lie down," Russia murmured.
He did. Latvia folded his arms and rested his face into the covers behind them as palms pressed circles into his lower back. Russia spread his index and middle fingers and then ran up the length of his spine, pressing deep and receiving a sigh from Latvia. He then dug his thumbs between his shoulder blades, slipping a leg over him so that he could get leverage and press straight down. His fingers spread over his muscles and squeezed simultaneously, and Latvia went limp and closed his eyes while his mouth creaked open into a gaping smile.
After a while, Russia moved off him and lay by his side. He asked him tenderly, "Do you feel better?"
"Yes," Latvia breathed and flickered his eyes open. "Thank you."
"We can sleep now," Russia said quietly. Latvia nodded sleepily, and Russia walked away to tend to the dying fire, the faint flames licking feebly at the spent wood. Once it was ready for an overnight burn, he turned off the light and felt around in the darkness as he crawled across the covers. He found him already under the blankets, so he slipped in beside him and fixed a pillow for himself. Latvia already had one under his head and a few lining his spine, so Russia shifted in closer to him.
He lay on his side and put his hand on Latvia's waist before sliding it up his back and holding him. They were pressed close, but the trust they had for each other allowed this. It required understanding, and this they had. Latvia knew Russia well now, and vice versa, so they could be this close without any problems.
"We can sleep in tomorrow," Russia whispered in the darkness. After his voice faded into silence, the sound of the wind howling outside was noticed.
"That's great-" and Latvia yawned as demonstration of his gratitude for this.
Russia adjusted the blanket so that it was more snug against Latvia's body. He rubbed his back through this blanket before he dipped his head and lightly kissed his hair. When Latvia breathed calmly in response, Russia continued to pepper his head with quick kisses with his hand petting his hair between some of them.
Russia nestled one final one on his crown before he murmured, "Goodnight."
Latvia whispered back, "Goodnight, Russia."
And they both fell asleep happy and safe, as though it could not have been simpler.
*Kotik= Russian word of endearment for kitten.
*Latvia is canonically spectacular at chess. It is not implied that Russia is terrible at it, and it may in fact be the opposite. However, something Latvia says he does is play chess against himself in his mind while working on projects (and this is amazingly impressive). In addition, he is described as being an unrecognized genius who is able to pick up new skills remarkably fast (Hetalia World Stars chapter 62-63).