the white hot iron of joy


"I thought we could all go!" Romano's frown deepens so Feliciano hurries to explain. "Me and Russia and you and Spain!"

"Why, did something happen last night?" Romano looks concerned, and then murderous when Feliciano doesn't immediately respond, starting to make assumptions, as he always does. Well, that happens when you spend so much time with certain nations, Feliciano thinks.

"No! It was great! I really enjoyed the ravioli~ and Russia did too! I just thought we could all go!"

Romano looks contemplative for a long moment. "Are you sure?" He asks, an edge to his voice.

"Of course! What's wrong with good friends spending time together, eating good food and drinking good wine and having a good and wonderful time!" (That may be laying it on a bit thick, Feliciano realizes, but if he projects enough, if he wants it enough, then it'll come true, right?

Ivan needs – okay, Feliciano wants him to spend time with his family, his friends, and hopefully one day Feliciano will be invited to do the same with Ivan's sisters. Baby steps first!

And the thing is – he knows Romano isn't unreasonable, and he knows Spain is almost always welcoming. So if Ivan meets anyone first, Feliciano wants it to be them.)

"No, I mean," Romano starts, and then shakes his head. "I just want to make sure you're – you know," he says again with that same rough edge to his voice – which Italy realizes is worry, laced with tension, with a touch of fear.

Oh. Oh, Feliciano thinks, and his smile slips into something more genuine.

"Oh, fratello!" He coos and latches on his brother's neck, smashing their faces together. Romano chokes and curses and flails and Feliciano starts laughing, because his brother is so sweet underneath all that curtness and although Feliciano doesn't forget that his brother loves him, he sometimes feels like it'd be nice to be reminded of this fact more often.

"Dammit, fine! I'll go!" Romano pushes Feliciano off and smooths his hair back into place, minus one springy curl. "You ask Spain, though. I'm not asking that bastard anything, he might get the wrong idea."

Feliciano does so, gladly and Spain is, unsurprisingly, very agreeable to the plan.

("Wine and food!" Feliciano said, "and Romano!" And Spain had laughed and said, ", count me in!")

Dinner goes well, Feliciano thinks. Romano curses a lot, and Spain seems to not know when to stop teasing him, and Feliciano has to jump in to placate Romano and keep him from causing dear old Spain grievous harm. Ivan sits back and watches, and mostly keeps his opinions to himself. Feliciano knows he's not comfortable around the others, but he doesn't show it. He smiles a lot, and Feliciano even thinks towards the end that his smiles are a bit more relaxed and real.

"The food was so wonderful!" Feliciano says again, and Romano and Spain nod in agreement before going their own way – but not before Romano gives both Ivan and Feliciano narrow looks, allowing himself to be dragged away by Spain (as much as he allows Spain anything).

That leaves Ivan and Feliciano to their own walk back towards the general direction of their hotels. It's a little bit colder than the climate in Italy, autumn slowly giving way towards winter, and Feliciano presses close to Ivan to avoid the chill, slipping his hand into Ivan's gloved one. They'd talked a lot last night – Feliciano had been emotional after meeting Stefano and once he'd started, he couldn't seem to stop. (Ivan hadn't seemed to mind! Feliciano thinks he'd learned a lot about the nation in that one evening.) Tonight he chatters about art and the new shows he's gone to, and has Ivan gone to any recently? Were they good? Any artists Feliciano would know?

Ivan is mostly quiet, still, and the watchfulness from earlier in the evening lingers. Maybe he is always this way, Feliciano is starting to think. Content to mostly let Feliciano run his mouth and rarely interrupting him, but never with a bored expression on his face. He is extremely hesitant about touching Feliciano first, but when Feliciano pats his back or brushes his knee Ivan is quick to lean into him and only reluctantly breaks contact. It's rather sweet – Feliciano concentrates only on thinking that, because to think Ivan is so starved for touch – he shivers and cuddles closer to Ivan, and Ivan immediately pulls him nearer and tightens his grip around his hand.

"What's the weather like where you live in Russia?" Feliciano asks, and Ivan's lips part in a small smile.

"A little cold, but not so bad, yet," he says, and Italy internally shudders at the yet part – how much worse could it get?

His face must reflect what he's feeling because Ivan looses a small laugh and says, "It's bearable. We have warm coats and vodka. All a nation needs, yes?"

"No wine?"

"None."

Feliciano stares, shocked. "What!? How do you live," he starts to wail, but stops when Ivan starts to laugh. A real, true laugh, one that is bright and infectious and Feliciano grins along with him.

"I joke," Ivan says.

Feliciano shakes his head in mock anger at him. He can't help the smile that tugs at his lips, although he tries to keep his scowl. "That's not funny!"

"Your face says otherwise! Yes, it was worth it." Ivan nods, pleased at his own joke.

Feliciano pouts. "You'll see, I'll cook you pasta and have wine that pairs well with it and you'll love it," he says with certainty, and Ivan smiles, amused.

"That sounds truly awful," he says easily, and Feliciano can't help but laugh.

"Your vodka is so awful." Feliciano shudders.

"What!" Ivan looks outraged, but Feliciano can see there is no real fury behind it. "You'll see, I'll..." he pauses for a moment and takes a breath before forging on. "I'll make you pelmeni and pair it with the smoothest vodka you've ever tasted and you'll...love it, too."

Feliciano smiles. "Okay!"

"Okay?" A look of relief quickly flashes across Ivan's face, and Feliciano would have to be blind not to realize the invitation he's just been extended.

"Sí! I look forward to it," Feliciano confirms, squeezing Ivan's gloved hand in his own. They swing to a stop as Feliciano's hotel comes into view. Ivan's is just up the street, Feliciano knows because he checked the list. Feliciano turns to say goodbye, so it's a surprise when Ivan bends down to kiss him instead, lips lightly pressing against Feliciano's.

Feliciano stiffens in shock, and abruptly Ivan pulls back.

"W-what?" Feliciano says at the same time Ivan says, "You –"

There is a painful moment of silence as Feliciano adjusts to this new development. Ivan – he kissed Feliciano – Ivan wants – Feliciano isn't ready! No one ever – he hadn't thought Ivan would want that.

(Doe he want that? Feliciano thinks wildly, hands trembling, and his heart is beating a little faster – but not in fear, but with something else.)

Ivan looks regretful – no, worse. He looks completely devastated for a brief moment before the mask slips back into place. His eyes become glassy and his smile softens into a mockery of childish joy before he launches into his usual speech about 'becoming one with Russia.' But it's fake, forced sounding. Ivan is protecting his heart because Feliciano isn't responding.

Feliciano broke Ivan's heart. He'd seen it, in that small moment, in Ivan's beautiful violet eyes – the reach, the grasp for love from Feliciano, the halt, the quick shift into helplessness into hopelessness, before the violet had flattened into a shade of immutable darkness that hurts Feliciano's eyes, making him blink.

Feliciano feels his own heart constrict in his chest because no. No, he doesn't want to break Ivan's heart, he wants it to be whole, and safe, and happy.

"Ivan," Feliciano tries to interrupt, but Ivan has flipped the switch, has dropped the sweetness and moved into the terrifying, looming above Feliciano.

Russia is staring at him now, and the distance between them is cold.

This is why Russia – Ivan – Russia has no friends, a small part of him whispers, and Feliciano wants to weep, wants to say it isn't true. Wants it to be otherwise. So he gathers his small kind of courage and fists his hand into the fabric of Ivan's sweater and brings him down, so that Feliciano can properly kiss him back.

His lips are cool – frozen? Feliciano wonders – and motionless, so Feliciano presses harder to warm them up, and waits. It takes a minute, but Ivan folds into him, like a great weight has been released from his shoulders, and he sighs, and his breath is warm against Feliciano's lips.

Feliciano lets him go, leaning back but keeping his hands on his chest.

"Sorry," Ivan says, and that's not what Feliciano expected. Less expected is the ragged, miserable tone that inflects Ivan's voice.

"No! Don't be!" He says, interrupting Ivan's next words.

"I thought –" Ivan pauses at Feliciano's outburst, and seems to draw himself upright. "You don't," he stopped again, hands clenching and unclenching but he doesn't look away. "It isn't necessary. I assumed," he stops again and draws a deep breath, and Feliciano has never seen Ivan look so – human.

"What do you mean?" Feliciano says softly, prompting Ivan to go on. It looks painful, whatever he's trying to say, and Feliciano can only guess how hard it must be for him to speak – he has never seen Russia vulnerable, has he?

There's conflict in Ivan's eyes – he looks like he wants to shut down, withdraw, or attack – it shows in his voice, suddenly clipped and forceful.

"I assumed...something. Was happening. Last night, you were – kind," he says, faltering on the last word. "And tonight, you held my hand – you always touch me," he bursts out, and visibly composes himself. "I was not a hundred percent sure, but I assumed it was a – it was something else when we were – laughing, and you accepted my invitation to my house, and I."

Ivan stops, and looks down at Feliciano. "Perhaps it would be better –"

"No!" This time it's Feliciano who interjects. "I didn't know it was a something, okay?" Feliciano keeps thinking something stands for something else – like what, though?

Dinner, touching, laughing – it dawns on Feliciano. Does Ivan mean a date?

Feliciano squares his shoulders and gazes up at Ivan. "If it was a date I definitely would have paid, and also not invited Romano or Spain, although I always think they would be fun to do double dates Romano curses too much and Spain makes him curse more than usual and trust me, it never works out."

(Ivan is watching him, carefully, face blank, but his eyes – oh, they speaking volumes to Feliciano!)

"So if it was a date then, well, it wasn't a real one, on a real one I would take you to a nice Italian restaurant and buy the really good wine and have appetizers," and okay those are all things that they had done, so Feliciano hurries onward, waving a hand for emphasis. "And buy a rose from the salesman and give you one, and after we would go get gelato even though it's cold and we would walk along the bridge by the water and listen to the musicians play and when I walked you home I would invite you up for un caffè and kiss you when you laughed at my jokes and," Feliciano stops, because really they had done just about all of those things and it had been a date, and.

Feliciano has never been quick, okay, everyone knows that!

"And?" Ivan says quietly, voice deep.

"And!" Feliciano says, and Ivan looks a little wary as Feliciano steps a little closer. "I would have been properly prepared!" He raises his hand and tugs a little on Ivan's scarf, and Ivan is leaning down towards him.

"To do...?"

"To make you laugh," Feliciano says with a quirk of a grin, trying to do exactly that, and Ivan smiles, just a little, enough for Feliciano to take that as a yes and kiss him, just a little, barely enough to qualify but more than enough to inform Ivan of his intentions.

(His intentions are, of course, honorable! Just don't ask Romano that.)

Ivan straightens up, but Feliciano doesn't move away – he snuggles closer, putting his head on Ivan's chest, and when Ivan slowly moves his arms around him Feliciano makes a contented sound of approval.

They stay like that for far too long – but Feliciano stopped feeling cold long ago, and Ivan seems to feel the same.


Thank you for reading! I'll be posting a NSFW epilogue on my LJ, if you're so inclined. And thank you to the dear OP for posting a wonderful prompt and getting me interested in this pairing. You know who you are! ;)