The Heart's Desires
A/N: This one I wrote for Hikari Kame, since she asked so kindly for a JapanxChina! I hope you all enjoy it! I'm not quite sure if I like it myself. I think it's a little clumsy, and it's really not as long as I had expected it to be…I've been so busy working on my other projects that my one-shot skills are kind of depleted. Sorry about that!
Pairing: JapanxChina
Rating: T, for some implications, etcetera…all my stories seem to have the same rating…
Summary: China knows better than to keep going back to those memories. But he does it anyway. He turns time back in his mind to see his dearest Japan, because his insecurities won't let him pass.
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The sea is endless. It is a continuous loop that separates nations from others, bringing them closer at the same time, serving both purposes quite well.
It separates them from their desires. Their desires to find something new, to be with someone far away, to have someone to talk to – to find riches and spread their religion, to become glorified in history. Superficial things, for the most part. That is why the Europeans spread their influence and had colonies, isn't it?
China is no stranger to desires. They lie in wait in the corners of his mind, waiting for when he is most vulnerable to attack. These desires are more his memories than they are advocates for carnal pleasure. To be specific, his memories of Japan – his most dearest Japan.
To say the least, China wants to hold on to the memories that suit his desires. He wants to remember how it feels to hold Japan in his arms; he wants to know his scent by heart, pick apart every little subtlety to it; he wants to remember the way his voice sounds when he sings a song, or simply sends China a greeting. The ancient nation knows better than to keep going back to these memories. But he does it anyway. He does it because the distance between them is all too painful, all too real.
He doesn't want to cross the seas. If he crosses them, Japan will ask him why. And how is he supposed to answer? "I just felt like seeing you." That will only raise more questions – questions China is not prepared to answer. So he settles for seeing Japan at meetings, and watches him across the table, admiring his beauty. He drowns out the others, just focuses intently on Japan, on the things he says, always pays attention to the little things he does – a flick of the wrist, blinking slowly to stave off drowsiness, running a hand through his hair to make sure it's neat and orderly.
That table is like the seas. It keeps them separate. China likes this distance, but all the same, he hates it. He wants to be close to Japan, but he fears what it might bring about. These fears are enough to keep him away. They're enough to drive him mad with desire and want, to wish he had no fears and could just face Japan, admit to him all his longing for his beauty, and to hold him in his arms once again. Fear drives him away, but his desires push him forward.
One cannot deny what the heart desires for so long.
So he finds himself at Japan's house, sitting next to the person that haunts his dreams at night. "Why did you visit me?"
"I just felt like seeing you," he concedes, biting his lip in worry.
Japan's brows furrow. "I see. And why is it that you felt like seeing me? This is a very sudden decision, and I know you normally plan things out before taking action…please excuse me if you feel I'm intruding."
"No, no," China shakes his head. "Don't worry about it, aru." He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes, before he continues. "Do you remember how close we used to be?"
Of course, the black-haired nation knows what he's speaking of. "I do." There is a secret code about the way they speak. When China says something of the sort, he knows he's speaking of a particular memory.
"I wish the sky could be this clear all the time," Japan spoke, staring up at the stars, so clear in the darkened sky. It was like one large, dark piece of lapis lazuli, bright and dazzling and vivid, playing tricks on the mind. In his head, Japan traces shapes in the stars. For a moment, he thought he saw something akin to the profile of China's face. A smile graced his lips.
"The clouds do ruin the beauty of sights like this, don't they, aru?" China sat next to Japan, though he did not look at the night sky. He looked upon the pretty face of the nation he once raised, watching it through the reflective surface of those soft brown eyes. Japan was beautiful when he smiled, he noted. So beautiful…
"They do," Japan nods his head. "But I suppose we need them."
"That much is true," China agrees with him. Without the rain, the crops wouldn't grow, and the land would slowly die. "While clouds obscure the beautiful sights in the sky, they have their own fun as well."
Japan turns to look at China, puzzled. "What do you mean by that?"
"You can find shapes in the sky with clouds. Sometimes it's an animal, or sometimes it's a boat. Maybe you'll even see a person, aru!"
"I've never thought of them like that, as if they were something other than clouds," Japan admits, turning back to look at the stars. "We should do that sometime. It would be fun, wouldn't it?"
China smiles at this. "We should. I would really love that."
His unspoken words: "I would really love to be with you."
"We never got the chance to watch the clouds, did we?"
Japan shakes his head, frowning slightly. "No. We never really did."
He finds himself staring again, into the deep brown of Japan's eyes, fixated on what he finds there – secrets, things unspoken, and his innermost feelings. "It's very cloudy today." "Do you want to watch them with me?"
"I see." "Of course I would, China. I made a promise to do this with you some time."
They stand and walk outside Japan's house, through sliding paper doors to sit back down on the wooden edge of the porch, staring up at the sunny sky, obscured by rolling clouds. Shapes pass by. Minutes pass by. Hours pass by. Silent words slip between them – a wordless conversation.
"I can see a koi fish swimming in the sky," Japan says.
"And I see a panda bear, aru!" China's silent-voice is ecstatic, because he's smiling.
"I see it as well," he confers with the elder nation, looking at him from the corner of his eye.
"Do you know what else I see?" China turns his head to look at Japan.
"What is it, Yao?" The use of his name sends his heart racing.
"I can see you. Not in the sky, no. But next to me. In front of me. In my mind; in my dreams at night. I keep seeing you, and every time I do, I can't deny how beautiful you really are. The years haven't touched you at all."
Japan's cheeks color slightly at their prolonged eye contact. "Yao…"
"Kiku, let me say this—I love to spend my time with you." "I love you, but the words to say so escape me. You understand this, don't you?"
"As I love to spend my time with you, Yao." Kiku fidgets nervously, looking away. He laces his fingers together in his lap to give himself something else to focus on. The cut-off nation is not used to sharing his feelings with others.
China smiles. "I'm happy to hear that," he whispers, and he leans to the side to press his nose against Kiku's neck, making contact with soft skin, taking in the delicate scents he hasn't smelled in so long, reveling in the euphoric feeling of being so close. Kiku's warmth is his warmth, heating his face; heating Kiku's face.
The island nation looks flustered. "Yao! What are you doing?"
"I'm remembering what it's like to be close to you." "Nothing to worry about," he answers, and pulls his face away, simply moving closer to the smaller man, shoulders touching, warmth spreading.
Kiku allows himself to lay his head in Yao's lap, as he did quite often growing up. He averts his eyes, cheeks a gentle shade of pink, too embarrassed to look up at the chestnut brown eyes of the elder nation.
His actions make Yao far happier than before. He smiles and allows his fingers to go through short strands of black hair, soft and smooth like their owner's skin, admiring the near-white sheen they take on as the clouds in the sky clear and the sun reveals itself, warming them further, making them closer. It completes the heart-felt scene of island nation and ancient nation succumbing to desire, to the raw emotions in their hearts, admitting to themselves that they cannot stay silent any longer.
"Do you want to stay the night?" Kiku's cheeks have darkened to a slight red as he asks this.
Yao laughs quietly, but nods his head in affirmation. "I would love that, actually."
"Good," Kiku murmurs, before he closes his mouth and shuts his eyes, as if to sleep, while Yao continues to run his hands through the silken hair of the man resting his head in his lap, still smiling – both are smiling.
Yao looks at the beauty in his lap. He admires how time hasn't even touched the soft, pale skin; how Kiku's lips are still appear young and pink and plump. With all his desires mounting, he leans down to place his own lips upon them, hoping not to stain their perfect youthful color. He leans back to find that Kiku's lips are still the same. Kiku's eyes flew open, staring up at Yao in disbelief. Subconsciously, the island nation licks his lips, flushing as he realizes he can taste Yao's distinctive flavor on them. He wonders if the taste will be there later.
They stay like this until the sun begins to set and the cold bites at their skin. Shivering, the two huddle close to one another and move back into Kiku's home, having a light meal before they move into Kiku's bedroom for the night. The wind picks up and howls, beating against the home. With its wild cries, it smothers the sounds of carnal pleasures coming out, covers new memories being made in the middle of the night, where two lovers come together, to stay together – whether physically, mentally, or emotionally.