Hey, everyone! So I got a request for a part two sot of thing for my RoChu oneshot, and I went for it! This has no smut, though a few mentions, but there's a warning for a reason.
Anyway, I hope you enjoy!
A few months later
"Ivan, no."
As stern as his voice was at the moment, Yao could not hide the smile of amusement as he walked around their house, trying to ignore the Russian, who had now become his shadow, while he searched for his car keys. There was a sound of disapproval behind him, likely attached to a small pout Yao could see in his head without even turning around.
"But I want to spend the day with you," Ivan argued, placing a gentle paw on Yao and rubbing soothing circles with his thumb against his back.
"You will," Yao snorted, though the annoyance in his voice was slowly melting as he let out a soft sigh of pleasure in the working against his tough back, "I just need to run a few errands."
Once again Ivan pouted, slinking his free arm around Yao's back and pulling him close to his body. Surprised, Yao opened his mouth in protest as the blood rushed to his face, his body molding to the Russians in instinct. "Ivan, I said no! I have thing to do, it'll only be a few hours!"
"Then do them later." His voice had a husky playfulness to it as he kissed the shell behind Yao's ear, holding him as their figures molded in a customary reaction.
As Yao sighed, he couldn't help but reflect on how much his life had changed once Ivan really stepped into it. After that passion driven night all those months ago- Yao had honestly stopped counting, only looking forward to how many more months they would have together- Yao had awoken in panic, ashamed of his act of lust. And he couldn't help the single thought from sparking in his mind when his eyes flew open: what if Ivan had left? What if all that odd courting had been a joke only for sex, for a one night stand Yao so feared? But as soon as there was a disturbance in the sheets Ivan was sitting up, too, placing a hand on Yao's scarred back and gliding it up and down in reassurance.
Yao remembered how he couldn't hold back the look of surprise at seeing Ivan still beside him, a small, yet confused, smile on his face.
"You look beautiful in the morning," Ivan had told him, lifting his free hand to brush his fingertips against his cheek, eyes taking in the ruffled, knotted raven hair. The red on Yao's face had caused Ivan to laugh, questioning innocently what was wrong when the smaller man had turned his face away. "I'm only speaking the truth!"
And there it had started with Yao letting out a grumble of protest before turning back to Ivan to lay his head against his chest. They lay there together, Ivan humming softly as he ran his large hand through Yao's silky hair and wasted the early morning together. There it had started when Yao's stomach had, embarrassingly, grumbled loudly in hunger, eliciting another laugh from Ivan, who suggested Yao they though should eat before their morning fully slips away. There it started, a surprisingly not-so-awkward meal of quick, homemade waffles and chatting from the two males.
And there it had continued when Yao wrote down his number for Ivan, placing it in the others hand with a soft smile, gently curling the fingers over the scrap of paper. They pressed into a intimate kiss, a knowing kiss, before Yao gave Ivan one last look before slipping out of his house into the crisp, bright afternoon sun. He hadn't even beat the first block when his phone went off.
"Tomorrow?" Was all Ivan asked; Yao could hear the smile in his words, and he knew Ivan could hear the same from him.
"Yes, Ivan. Tomorrow."
Tomorrow had turned into a few days, days turning into weeks, months blurring into a future.
Month one was filled with ease and bliss, introducing Ivan as his official boyfriend to his friends. Though slightly terrified, Matthew was naturally the first one to welcome Ivan into their group, swallowing his fear and extending a hand with a smile. After seeing Matthew welcome the mysterious Russian, it was as if that were the deal breaker; Francis, trusting his partner in his instinct, was quick to ask Ivan all sorts of "rumors" about Russian men that everyone, especially Yao, were desperate to stop. Arthur, trying to holdback his wary scowl, eventually grew used to Ivan's presence. Alfred was the hardest to win over- not to anyone's surprise, even Ivan- and was always, at first, telling Yao to "dump the Communist spy before he gets too comfortable!" Eventually the two became good friends, having many strength competitions, driven by their alpha male personalities.
Month two was filled with parks and train rides to the city. It was filled with late night takes, hesitant words and soft murmurs as they learned about one another. Of past memories, both good and sad. Of pictures frames holding still shots of family members, some gone from this world and some they'd rather avoid. Of hopping from one home to the other, nestling under a blanket while a movie played on the TV, flickering light on the couple. Sometimes Ivan would bring Yao to the roof of his house, the smaller in his lap as he cupped a mug of soup, each taking turns to speak knowledge about constellations and myths of the past. Of learning that Yao made faces as he read a book or how Ivan always walked around the house with socks on; how Yao hated to be interrupted when he practiced tai chi or how his face light up when Ivan allowed himself to grow a garden in his back yard. How Ivan nearly crushed Yao in a huge when their first sunflower blossomed or how Yao's scar ached in the rain and Ivan rubbed oils on his back, face taunt as he desperately tried to ease the pain.
Month three was the time Yao moved in with Ivan- his house was much larger and closer to Yao's work and friends. The tension in those few weeks was thick, both having to grow accustomed to constantly having another around. But it didn't last for long, both making sacrifices in order to be with the one they loved.
And the confessions- Yao could never forget that memory of hearing Ivan speak those three words to him as they both lay on the grass next to the garden.
"I love you," he had whispered, turning his head to face Yao, the sun making his already light hair glow against the green backdrop, violet eyes so tender it make his heart ache.
"And I love you." There was no hesitation in Yao's reply, black hair draping across his face, his tear filled eyes, his loving smile as he kissed Ivan's nose. It had been that easy because they both knew; they knew from the beginning that love was always constant. Constant during their talks, their walks, their fights. Yet when they spoke their love aloud, it made everything real.
After that, Yao couldn't really remember what his life was like without Ivan. It was as if his life was complete with the Russian around; the man who brought Yao gifts and flowers just to see him smile, who would settle his head in his lap like a sad pup after a harsh fight. Ivan never shied away from telling Yao his feelings and gratitude for him being in his life, shamelessly hugging him when he wanted and kissing him when he desire. Though Yao always scolded him, red faced as he tried to twist away, he truly loved the other. He didn't want his life any other way and couldn't even think of the alternatives from this.
"Come with me, then," Yao told him, returning to the present as he twisted his head to blink up at Ivan. "You never leave me alone in this house, anyway, so why stop now?"
"If you insist," Ivan smiled, planting a kiss to Yao's forehead and finally releasing his love, but not before he intertwined their fingers. "If you wanted me to come that badly, you should have just said do.
"Aiyah!" Yao grumbled, rolling his eyes as another smile twitched on the corner of his lips, "You're insufferable sometimes, Ivan. But I can't find my keys, so we can't leave until then."
"You mean these?" Hearing the innocent tone in the Russian's voice Yao whirled around to see Ivan holding his keys in his hands, clearly trying to hold back his amused laughter. "Maybe I should hide them so you don't have to go just yet, da?"
Mouth open, Yao couldn't find the right words to lash out at Ivan, only staring. Seeing his opportunity Ivan leaned forward, capturing Yao into a sweet kiss. Breathing out through his nose Yao finally gave in, releasing his hand so he could wrap his arms around Ivan's neck.
"Sometimes I wonder why I still deal with you," You mumbled to him, lips brushing against one another and letting his breath spill over Ivan's chin.
"I don't worry too much," Ivan told him back, keeping their bodies close as their eyes locked onto one another, a smile mirroring on both their features.
Yao only scoffed, pressing into another kiss, tilting his head as their lips molded into the familiarity of one another. The gesture spoke for the words that didn't need to be said aloud; neither was going anywhere without the other.
When they broke apart, slightly panting as their eyes met once more, Yao and Ivan broke into soft laughter as the keys were left abandoned on the counter, both making their way upstairs. Their love for one another didn't need words because it was in every action they did; in every smile, every word, every nightly walks, in every blink. In every yell after a rough day, in every touch when they made love.
Yao knew it was there their first night together; in every pant and whispered word, in the morning when Ivan was still beside him, in the pain Yao felt in his chest when he forced himself to leave the Russians house.
Yao had thought Ivan could be the one to fulfill his need for a relationship, but he had given him so much more. Ivan had thought Yao would be the one to fill the loneliness that plagued him, yet he had filled his life with so much purpose Ivan didn't know he was missing.
Yao and Ivan had faith in one thought: despite where their paths may lead, they were intertwined. Yao had Ivan beside him, Ivan had Yao, and nights spent at the bar with Arthur and Alfred, never void of Francis and Matthew, were no longer filled with stares from across the room.