A/N: I'm back! Had a busy week, but today I found some time to finish this two-shot! :) Thank you everyone for your reviews! They were very motivating! I hope this chapter will do them credit! Much love! Doitsu

Disclaimer: Hetalia Axis Powes and all associated characters belong to Hidekazu Himaruya! No copyright infringement intended.

Dear Santa

-Part 2-

Yao was flustered.

He had been home with his siblings, celebrating Christmas not because he was Christian (which he wasn't) or because he believed in Santa (which he didn't), but because it was nice to have everyone come to his house, to cook for them and give as well as receive presents.

It had been snowing lightly and he had been absently staring out the window, as in the adjoining room Japan, Hong Kong and Korea were clinking their glasses together and Taiwan was singing a Christmas carol in her cheerful, broken Chinese.

Yao had watched the flurry of snowflakes falling in silence, gaze swooping and diving through the gusts of wind that blew them against the cold window pane. Despite the Christmas cheer suffusing the air and dancing in the atmosphere just as the snow danced outside, he hadn't been able to keep his thoughts on the here and now.

Instead, his mind had drifted to Ivan, who believed in everything that he didn't believe in.

Christmas.

Santa.

All these things could bring a smile to Russia's face, and through his delight, it could also bring colour and true cheer to Yao's Christmas. Only he wasn't here... Yao had known, rationally, that Christmas was celebrated in the close circle of one's family, but it had not kept him from wanting to spend it with Ivan.

Ivan was probably happy with Christmas as it was; it wasn't as though he wanted Yao there. It was more of a selfish desire on China's part.

The window had rattled a bit as a particularly strong wind beat air and snow against its panes.

He had understood. Of course he couldn't go to Russia's house for Christmas—he had no place there. Reasoning told him so. Now, if only his heart would understand it, too.

An involuntary sigh had escaped him and suddenly, he had had pale hands darting around him to rest on his chest and then squeeze it.

He had growled.

"Korea!!"

The hands had vanished quickly and he had turned to glare at the nation that had sneaked up behind him.

Korea had grinned and apologized. "Sorry!" He hadn't looked sorry.

"Just thought you looked sort of out of it and couldn't resist!"

Yao had wanted to continue glaring, but Japan had come in and fixed him with his deep and knowing eyes that left him defenceless.

"It's Russia, isn't it? You miss him."

Yao had felt like hissing like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, but he had held it back. It was true after all.

"Just go to his house, knock politely and I promise you he will be delighted to have you."

Yao's mind had momentarily fallen into the gutter, but he had recovered quickly as he understood what Japan was trying to say.

"You think...?"

And that was how he had got himself into the present situation. He had hesitated briefly in front of Russia's door before knocking timidly but firmly.

And after a while of standing in the snowstorm that had felt like the inside of his freezer or worse, the door had opened to a surprised and then beaming Ivan, who looked like all his wishes had come true by just having Yao there.

And maybe they had.

"...Did Santa send you?"

Yao blinked, flustered and taken aback, and raised an eyebrow. "You believe in Santa?"

Of course Russia believed in Santa, he knew that, but it had slipped out nonetheless. Yao bit his tongue in silent punishment.

Ivan looked like the wind had been taken from his sails, his face falling and the smile slipping off his lips.

Yao's frantic mind conjured a reassuring smile onto his face and he took a step toward Russia.

"I… He did! He… Santa… he just dropped me off, see, right over there, by that tree!"

"Oh yes?", Ivan's voice grew excited again. He leaned around Yao to search the sky with eager eyes, hoping to catch a glimpse of Santa on his sleigh.

"Was Snyegorochka with him? The Snow Maiden?"

Yao was confused for a moment, but then assented, even though he wasn't sure who Russia was referring to.

"Look, she brought all this snow", he settled on saying, relatively sure he could not go wrong by assuming that the Snow Maiden brought snow.

Ivan's face lit up some more and Yao's heart warmed at the sight.

Finally, Ivan gave up on looking for Santa and his eyes settled on Yao, who felt Russia's gaze and shivered—perhaps from the cold around him, perhaps from the warmth within him.

"That means that you are my present?"

Yao could never deny him when his face shone like this. "I... I suppose so, aru..."

Unexpectedly, Russia's hand darted forward to grab his arm and Yao could do nothing but let himself be dragged into the house by an excited Russia.

Ivan stopped in the entrance hall after closing the door. Suddenly, Yao could feel the happiness falling away and when Ivan turned to him, his face had turned intense, childish delight all drained away. Yao wondered where it had gone, but he knew that Ivan's joy was only a short-lived, precious glimpse of the nation he could be.

"Yao", Ivan breathed as he reached for him and Yao let himself be embraced, because it wasn't a hug, no, it was a great deal more and Ivan needed it right now.

"Yao, Yao, Yao..." It was as though Ivan was attempting to keep him there with his name alone, with this mantra of loneliness flowing from his lips. Russia's fingers were twitching against his back, fingertips burying themselves in his skin as though he was trying to hold him fast, even if Yao was doing nothing to escape his arms.

"Shhh... I'm here now, aren't I?"

His own fingers wandered up Ivan's broad back in what might have been a caress or simple comfort.

Russia's breath hitched and suddenly, the air was knocked out of Yao's lungs as he was pressed tightly against Ivan. He gasped. The crushing force of Ivan's arms was pressing in around his ribcage, making him wince and struggle for breath.

He was about to utter a sound of discomfort when Russia's vulnerable voice resonated from Ivan's chest into his own, reaching into him to touch his heart.

"Are you really there?"

He gave up breathing and ignored the pain of Russia's crushing weight, because the pain in Ivan's voice was so much greater and twisted his heart with its desolation.

Yao couldn't speak, but he tightened his own arms around Ivan, locking his hands behind Russia's back and drawing him closer still. When Ivan started trembling, Yao used the last breath left in his lungs to whisper through the suffocating pressure.

"I'm here."

And the pressure diminished until Ivan stepped back and cast his eyes to the floor.

"For decades, every year... Yao, every year I wrote to Santa and asked him for one thing. One thing. And I waited every Christmas to see if he would... if he would grant me my only wish."

Yao frowned, concerned at the vulnerable and pained tone of voice.

"What did you wish for?", he dared to ask softly.

His question went unheard, as Russia seemed lost in memory, lost in past Christmases that had brought pain when they should have brought happiness instead.

"I said I'd be good, I said I'd not drink vodka anymore, I said I'd try my best..." Defeat coloured his voice with dark colours.

Yao felt his eyes sting and swallowed. It hurt him to think that Ivan had wished for something for so long, had so innocently waited for something that Santa would never bring, because he didn't exist.

"And never... never did he hear me."

Yao bit his lip and tried to think of something comforting to say, anything.

"...Maybe you had the wrong address?"

And Ivan laughed.

Yao stared, confused but glad he had managed to bring the smile back to Ivan's face.

Mirth and a giddy kind of excitement bubbled in Ivan's eyes as he squeezed Yao's shoulders.

"What are you saying, Yao? Of course it was the right address."

Confusion escaped him in a breath. "Huh?"

"Santa got my letter and gave me my present this year!"

More confusion. "Wh-what's the present?"

Ivan looked at him with a half-tender, half-exasperated expression.

"Why, my present is you, Yao."

"I'm your present?" Yao blinked rapidly. Did that mean— "You... you wished for me?"

Ivan nodded happily, taking one of Yao's hands in his and beginning to absently draw circles with his thumb on Yao's palm.

"You said it yourself—Santa brought you here in his sleigh. I wished for you and because I didn't begin any wars, didn't drink vodka and wasn't mean to Latvia, Santa came tonight to drop you off."

Yao's breath hitched. Ivan's joy was precious to him and it was of utmost importance that he continued to believe that Santa had brought Yao as a present.

He conjured the brightest smile he had and nodded. He ignored the little tug his heart gave as his mind again and again repeated words in his head. He wished for you. He wished for you. For you. Yao shushed his mind. He wasn't entitled to Ivan's heart or life.

The hand Russia had been holding was suddenly used to tug him along through the entrance hall toward the sound of music and celebration.

"I'll show you to my sisters!", Ivan was excitedly calling as he used his superior strength to drag a stumbling China along.

"Wait!", Yao called.

Ivan stopped and looked at him in askance.

Hesitation and the yearning to be with Ivan warred within him.

The sound of Ivan's family cheerfully singing a Christmas carol drifted toward them through a closed door. The warm candle light filtered through the slit underneath and bled into the corridor they were standing in, bathing their feet in borrowed light. Christmas is a family occasion. A family holiday. The words resonated through his head, gnawing at the edges of his thoughts and of his consciousness. It's family only...

"Are you sure, Ivan...? It's Christmas. It's..." He couldn't bring himself to utter the words, those incriminating words that would shatter their connection, the bond they had shared until now. Get a grip on your emotions, his mind frowned at him.

Ivan was still looking at him curiously.

He took another breath and let it wash over and around his next words. "It's for family only."

Yao desperately reached for more words to soften the blow. Maybe it was more a blow against himself than Ivan. "I don't want to intrude."

"You aren't intruding", Ivan whispered, an unreadable look surfacing in his eyes before sinking into their amethyst depths again. It was as though he had made a decision and when he met Yao's gaze he seemed to have new resolve.

"You have every reason and right to be here."

The light shimmering from under the door became a warmer shade and flickered over their feet playfully as though to draw them in.

"But..."

Ivan shook his head and held his eyes. He lifted one of Yao's hands to his mouth and, never losing eye contact, pressed a deliberate and soft kiss against his delicate skin.

"You are exactly where you should be, my Yao... Because family cannot intrude on family."

Yao's heart felt like it was bursting and when Ivan's larger hands left his to cup his face, he let it happen. With anticipation he hadn't felt so strongly in centuries, he closed his eyes and surrendered his mouth to Ivan, who stood over him and slowly, oh so slowly, descended to fit his lips against Yao's. Maybe he could have Ivan, maybe he could start something that he had not dared to start before.

Ivan's lips eased the pressure on his own for a moment and his arms tightened around his back as if conveying a wordless message.

"You're mine."

The tender whisper ghosted over Yao's lips, a reassurance, a confession, a promise, and Yao shivered in response.

And this time, he knew, the shiver was from the warmth.

The End