Written for a friend of mine who's birthday is soon~! She wanted dark/angsty Pol/Liet! Happy (early) Birthday Chibi656(DA name)! I hope you like this fic, it's the best I can offer you!

On a side note while I use human names in this fic, Poland still calls Toris by Liet. That's because I still needed it to be a nickname, and 'Totes' like I used in my AU fic didn't have the… intimacy I needed here.

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The air was still filthy with a thick and choking smoke, along with the smell of burnt metal and spilled blood. It clung not only to their clothing, but to their very skin underneath as if it originated from there. And perhaps it did. The war wasn't only something that was affecting their people after all, but the nations bodies themselves. Not just from fighting one another on the fields, their very yards, for neither of the two had done that for some time now. No, it ran much deeper than that…

Toris had been shocked the first time he had caught a glimpse of his friend when he had first been brought to Ludwig's house on orders of occupation. At first he had been anxious about meeting with the long estranged Pole, fretted over it to the point that his ulcer had been a constant pain. But when he had seen Feliks for himself—only briefly—any and all unresolved anger had evaporated in an instant, and not even the medicine that the German had been gracious enough to give him had been enough to stop the new pain in his chest.

Feliks had simply been sitting by a window in a room they passed, resting his chin in one hand as if he was bored. But his other arm was in a sling, and a bandage was wrapped around his head, tinged pink and red, and one eye was covered as well. He must have heard Toris gasp, because the blond had turned his head to the partially open door and smiled, giving a wave to the startled brunette with his bandaged hand. Try as he might, the Lithuanian couldn't forget that smile. He hadn't been allowed contact with the Pole during his duration as an annexation because, as Gilbert put it to his brother, 'Nothing good will come of the two of those idiot friends plotting together!'. Honestly… The Prussian wasn't even technically a nation anymore and it had nothing to do with his long ago defeat at the hands of the two, and he was still bitter about it.

It was much later that things had broken down to the point that they could organize an escape. The North Italian nation, Feliciano, had become friends with Feliks, and had been kind enough to pass letters between Toris and the blond for some time. But their real chance had only come when Ludwig had suffered a crushing blow at the hands of that very Italian by means of Feliciano's surrender. He sided with the Allies now, as if he had a choice to do otherwise. And worst of all was that Toris knew that feeling, of being betrayed by the one you trusted most. The name Wilno still haunted his heart, even though it was common for the Pole to call his capitol that. But that had been before he tried to take it…

Presently there was the sound of gunfire somewhere far off, and he closed his eyes tightly. His left hand clutched at the cold wall that he stood against, nearly ripping the old wallpaper. His right hand however was warm, encased in another slightly smaller hand. The only sound that prevailed in the pitch black house was the sound of two bodies breathing heavily, and their own hearts loud in their ears, assuring the two of them that they were alone.

"….You can totally stop… glancing out the window, Liet." Came the voice from below him, drawing green eyes down to the Pole who sat on his heels, leaning back against the wall. Their hands remained tightly entwined, neither of them willing to let go just yet. While Feliks had healed nicely enough, he was still rather injured. Toris' own wounds mattered not according to him, but his friend's all seemed life-threatening. Bandaged ribs visible from his open uniform, a badly bruised shoulder, a cut above his left eye which was still unhealed, and various other bruises and abrasions from head to toe. He was also thinner than Toris could ever remember, and yet it did nothing to hide his natural appeal. In fact, even like this, he thought the Pole quite attractive.

"Ha… hahaha…" Toris' laugh was quiet, somewhat breathless. Feliks looked up, raising his good eyebrow in question. The brunette slid down against the wall to take a seat beside his friend, hands resting together on the floor now. His chest rose and fell with breath, his own uniform quite tattered from their fight to get this far away. "I… I was just thinking…" He swallowed as he glanced over to the blond. "This reminds me a little of long ago…" Now Feliks smiled a little, reaching up to flip his tangled hair over his shoulder.

"As if. We'd never run like this if it was back then." He said with more than a touch of pride.

"Ah, true. We'd fight until we couldn't stand, wouldn't we?" Toris agreed. "But in the end we'd both end up just as covered in bandages and our bosses would just stare in amazement as we worked in the fields. Or… As I did." He teased, and Feliks gave a small laugh. He hissed, holding his ribs a moment later, and Toris frowned in worry. The blond let go of Toris' hand to wave him away when he leaned in, shaking his head.

"Totally fine…" He responded, holding his smile, but it was strained. The Lithuanian felt an absence somehow. That smile was so forced and empty, a painted grin to fight the pain inside and out. It almost reminded him of… Ah no, those thoughts would do him no good right now. He glanced away, his eyes having adapted a bit to the darkness of the house they were in currently.

"We're about a day's walk from my house… Or yours, depending on the path." The brunette spoke up, spying a couch, a few chairs, and dark doorways.

"So this is where we part, huh?" Feliks said casually, drawing the Lithuanian's surprised gaze back to him.

"Wha—"

"You didn't expect to stay together the whole time, did you?" The blond laughed, holding his ribs again.

"But, I thought…!"

"You thought what, Liet?" Feliks looked back, smiling wryly. "That I needed someone to protect me?" Toris' mouth worked for a moment, but he couldn't seem to speak. The blond shook his head, hair falling over his shoulder again. "I've gotten this far. Nothing can put me down for good, you should know. But…" The heat that came to the Pole's face could barely be seen from the bit of light which came in from the window above them. "…I don't hate that type of thinking." He admitted, and it seemed his smile changed. That smile made Toris' heart skip a beat. He swallowed as Feliks shifted, leaning forward to get to his hands and knees.

"Ah…" Lips parted, as did his knees when the blond moved over to him, until the smaller bodied nation was on his knees between Toris' legs. "F-Feliks… This house…" He protested slightly as the other bent close,

"Is empty…" Eyes that were almost the mirror of his own half-closed, and Toris' followed suit.

"But… The Germans…"

"Far away…" Lips hovered, brushing lightly. Their breath was shared as they listened to the faded sounds of war, as if it really was all so far off. Not far enough… Toris thought to himself, to let out guard down like this… But Feliks' tongue slipped out between his own pink lips to wet them, brushing Toris' own by chance. The brunette offered no resistance when he was kissed then, though it really was much harder than he had expected.

There was more than a hundred years of frustration in that kiss, of being kept apart and even isolated by their own designs. But even so hurt by Feliks' bold claim on his heart, his capitol Vilnius, Toris had still called to warn the Pole about Ivan's coming invasion. Not that he could have done anything, what with both the German and the Russian invading at once… Toris knew the feeling.

Tongues came in to play swiftly, neither knowing who's came first. They simply met in the middle, hot, slick and wet, sliding against one another as they breathed in through their noses just to stay close. The sound of their kiss in the dark was wet, punctuated by the swift and heavy breaths that they shared between them. Feliks' hands were resting on either side of Toris' hips, the blond's body moving closer until the brunette could feel the heat of his chest against his own. Their hips would have touched of the position allowed it, but as it was they were still a bit apart. It just wasn't enough! Feliks nipped Toris' lower lip, enticing a gasp from the taller nation. He reached out suddenly, grasping at the blond's back to press their chests together.

"Aaah…!" It wasn't all pleasure that touched Feliks' voice, unfortunately. Toris released him at once, but Feliks' hands were already moved to his friend's hips. "Don't stop." He demanded, panting heavily.

"But, your wou—" The Lithuanian protested.

"I don't care! I… need this, Liet. I need you…" His hand moved, cupping the front of the Lithuanian's pants quite boldly. Toris gasped, eyes falling closed as his head snapped up to hit the wall with the back of it, resounding with a dull thump.

"God… Feliks…!" It really had been a long time… For the both of them. But… Toris shook his head, resting his hand on his friend's wrist. "I'm… I'm not… You wouldn't… want me anymore." This only made Feliks' hand more determined, rubbing firmly as his lips moved from Toris' lips to his jaw, trailing kisses to his neck. He spoke with a hiss, half in lust and half in the pain that he was holding back.

"Did you not, like, hear me?" He chastised, giving that neck a nip with his teeth. Toris let a small moan slip out, turning his head to the side slightly, but he still didn't seem convinced.

"Mmmn… I'm not… clean…" It didn't take a genius (which, contrary to popular belief, many Poles were) to figure out that he didn't mean physically. They were both covered in everything from dirt and blood to old sweat and bandages.

"And I am?" Feliks shot back, his free hand moving up to unbutton the Lithuanian's uniform jacket. He seemed offended by the notion that he should be, that either of them would still be. They weren't children anymore, and they had both been through so much…

"P-please—ssss…" Toris' complaint ended in a hiss of pleasure as Feliks' fingers slipped inside his open jacket, between the buttons of his shirt to brush one already pert nipple. He turned his head to the side then, eyes closing. Why was he protesting at all? This was Feliks. Gentle Feliks, warm Feliks, small and passionate Feliks… His Feliks… He was nothing at all like… "Feliks stop!" Hands moved to the blond's shoulders, holding him still. No sooner than the shorter nation narrowed his eyes in frustration then he began to cough, covering his mouth and hunching in towards the brunette. "Feliks!" Toris' hands released those small, seemingly frail shoulders all at once. The blond continued to cough for some time, deep and hacking coughs which shook his entire frame. He gasped for breath as if something prevented him from breathing, the black wet mess on his hand glittering in the dim light which hid its true color of crimson. After a while he could breathe again, but before Toris could say anything at all he was cut off by an angry stare.

"I'll, stop… But, this better not like… Have anything to do with… that fat bastard…." Feliks completely ignored the coughing fit he'd just had in favor of why the Lithuanian had stopped him. Toris' brows furrowed, and he shook his head.

"This has nothing to do with … with him." It didn't, did it? "You're injured… You just about coughed up a lung!" Toris defended himself. The blond seemed to pout stubbornly, as if not even that would have stopped him. And maybe it wouldn't normally… But he was tired now. Even a nation could only take so much, and after fighting, running, and hiding all day… Maybe sex was a little too much to ask of his body right now. With a heavy sigh, the Pole's shoulders slumped down.

"Like… fine." He huffed, though he winced when he did. Moving back beside his closest friend, he promptly fell to the side onto his unwounded shoulder, head on Toris' lap.

"Fel—!" The brunette blushed.

"Wake me before sunrise." Feliks said simply, giving a small yawn. Toris swallowed, nodding simply as he brushed the Pole's blond bangs out of his face with a slightly trembling hand. Feliks smiled; content to give a nudge to the arousal that he had started in his friend's pants with his head as he pretended to shift. Toris gave a small gasp, biting down on his lower lip. Come tomorrow they would have to start running again, and this time in different directions.

Parting again was only as easy as severing a limb from either of the two, after finally being reunited on terms which could be considered peaceful. The matter of Vilnius and Wilno was all but forgotten, and it was unlikely that it would come up again when all of this was over. Maybe someday, Feliks might even apologize. But how could he ever explain to what extent that he needed to hold on to Toris' heart, and not just his body like he'd just tried to do?

I'm not clean.

Those words echoed in Feliks' head, and he clenched his hands as he listened to Toris' breath from above him. Who the hell could call themselves clean anymore anyway? With his most trusted friend under the yoke of the Russian—and he wished that was all Toris had been under—Feliks had been left all alone. Alone with strangers; forced to slowly accept that strangers would become a part of his life.

"Liet…"

"Mm?" Toris' voice was tired now, just as his own.

"Let me… hold you… when this is all over." Feliks tried to sound casual, confident. The brunette smiled down at him, brushing his fingers through his hair again.

"Alright. When this is all over…" When it was all nothing but a bad dream, another scar in their past. When Toris could really call himself his own, only then could he give himself to anyone. Feliks seemed satisfied with this, giving a careful yawn as he closed his eyes.

Toris himself would stay awake to keep watch, he knew this. But he wanted the brunette to rest tomorrow, because he knew exactly what was coming to meet them. If Feliks left early tomorrow he could avoid it, the clash between the German army behind them and the Russian in front of them. And as much… as he hated it… Hated himself for letting it happen… He knew that Toris could not. But Feliks couldn't face either Ludwig or Ivan right now. Toris on the other hand… He had a sanctuary with Ivan that burned a hole into the Pole's heart. To save himself he was pushing his own dear friend… His love, into the arms of the man who had made him 'unclean' for others.

Clutching at the fabric at Toris' knee, he gave a small, almost silent sob.

"Ssshh…" Toris whispered softly. Of course he knew very well what was happening. It was unlikely that he could avoid the Russian army after all, and Ivan would never avoid the chance to see his favorite little Baltic in such a vulnerable state as this.

"Remember… your promise, Liet!" Feliks sniffed stubbornly, blinking away the tears that stung on his eyes.

"I'll remember." Toris didn't hesitate. And he fully intended to keep it… Feliks took a few careful, deep breaths.

"I'm not… Clean either, you know." Not for a long, long time. Toris bit his lip, though he gave a small nod. "I'm not…" Eyes closed, Feliks' exhaustion was catching up with him. His body needed rest, no matter the turmoil of his mind and heart.

"Ah." Toris gave a sound that wasn't consent or denial. But Feliks was too tired to ask, his breathing evening out slowly until he finally drifted off into a restless sleep.