[Posted: August 27, 2019]

Wrote this in about 7 hours. I've been getting pretty self-indulgent with my fics lately. The idea was inspired by Huggiebird. I was supposed to post this like a week ago, sorry about the delay.

This fic takes place in 1992 (3 years after Farewell, Cherished Memories) after the Cold War ended.

Warnings: Nationverse. Fluff. Angst. Romance. Sexual Themes.

The meeting dragged on for longer than usual; it didn't end until nearly 11pm. Gilbert was exhausted and yet he was still awake in his hotel room, on his back, eyes on the ceiling. The streetlights outside provided a little bit of light through the curtains, enough for him to see faint colors and the shape of furniture.

He let out a frustrated sigh and rolled onto his side, reached over to the nightstand, and grabbed his phone. The brightness of the phone screen made him flinch and squint a few times until his eyes adjusted. It was almost 3:30 in the morning and he groaned when he saw it; it was annoying how late it was, he was so tired but his mind just wouldn't rest. Something about the bed just wasn't comfortable either, and he felt a little cold even though it was the middle of summer.

Gilbert opened his contacts app and scrolled through the names of all the nations. He stopped when he saw Ivan's name — his icon a photo Gilbert had taken of him on a beach trip. Ivan was wearing a sunhat, but still had that heavy scar of his around his neck.

'Who wears a scarf to the beach?' Gilbert asked himself with a chuckle. He's asked the same question the day he took the photo. He knew why Ivan always wore the scarf, but either way, it was a cute picture that embarrassed Ivan whenever Gilbert showed it to him.

He wasn't sure if he wanted to text him. Ivan was probably asleep anyway, but he also didn't want to risk waking him up.

Despite that, he sent a quick, 'You up?' and turned the phone screen off. A sense of regret filled him afterward. Ivan would see that text later when he woke up and ask about it, and there was no way Gilbert would admit to not being able to sleep because he felt a bit lonely and anxious.

Then his phone vibrated and he grabbed it quickly, almost embarrassingly so. Ivan texted back and asked if everything was okay. Gilbert sighed and smiled a little at Ivan's thoughtfulness, at how sweet he was.

'Yeah, just can't sleep.' Gilbert sent back.

Nervous about tomorrow?' Ivan asked.

Gilbert swallowed and hesitated with his thumbs over his keyboard.

'A bit.'

'You'll do great. Let me talk and deal with any backlash.'

'You think they'll get mad?' Gilbert asked.

There was a long pause in Ivan's reply this time and it made Gilbert a little nervous.

'I don't think your brother wants you back in Russia...'

Gilbert gripped his phone and grit his teeth. He felt a tickle in his throat and he coughed a little. He hated it. He got up from bed, pulled his robe on over his bare chest and didn't bother to tie it, slipped on his boots, and left the room.

He remembered what room Ivan was in and had to go up a floor, but once he found the correct one, he stood outside it lost and indecisive. He wondered if he should go back, and hesitated with his balled fist just inches from the door. Finally, he pushed his pride and embarrassment aside and knocked a few times. Regret once again filled him and he felt compelled to run; if he left now, he could probably make it to the elevator before Ivan opened the door and saw him. As he debated it, he heard something behind the door clink and it opened seconds later.

Ivan peeked out the crack in the door to see a sheepish, sleepy Gilbert with his hands tucked into his robe which was open and revealed a bit of his white skin.

"Gilbert? Why are you here?" he asked. Despite being surprised by Gilbert's sudden arrival, he already knew why he was there.

Gilbert blushed and turned his gaze down the hall.

"Told you. Can't sleep."

Ivan smiled and opened the door more. Gilbert looked at him and hesitated, even though they both knew he was going to enter. Ivan didn't want to force him. After a long minute, Gilbert walked inside Ivan's dark hotel room.

He stood there awkwardly until he felt Ivan's hands on his shoulders and gently rub in soothing circles. Gilbert looked over and saw Ivan's gentle smile. Slowly he pulled the robe off of Gilbert's shoulders until it slipped down his arms. Once it was off, Gilbert held his upper arms as he felt a chill. Ivan folded the robe and placed it on a chair in the room; he knew Gibert would want it folded.

"It's cold..." Gilbert muttered in slight discomfort. Ivan stood in front of him and rubbed his upper arms.

"I'll keep you warm," Ivan promised and held Gilbert's right hand. He felt something on his finger that caught his attention. "You're still wearing the ring I gave you when you left..."

Gilbert tutted and turned his head away.

"Of course I am, it was a gift..." he grumbled.

Ivan watched him for a moment with a tiny smile.

"You know, in Russia, wearing it on your right ring finger means marriage."

"Shut up," Gilbert groaned in embarrassment. "That means nothing," he denied unconvincingly.

"You could have put it on any finger," Ivan spoke softly as he gently touched over each of Gilbert's fingers.

Gilbert knew that Ivan was teasing him, but he knew the Russian tradition and knew the superstitious origins of it as well; he found it funny since he was left-handed. Although, despite his embarrassment at first, he knew exactly what he did when he put the ring on.

Ivan was tired but that shy look on Gilbert's face made his heart race. He loved that Gilbert wore the ring at all, but the fact that he wore it as a wedding ring made him feel like he could cry of happiness. He thought about marrying Gilbert as he touched his fingertips against the simple silver band, and the thoughts made his stomach burst with butterflies.

Ivan then squeezed his hands in his.

"Let's try to sleep now, okay? The meeting is at noon and I don't want to be too tired when I tell everyone that I'm taking you back."

Gilbert chuckled and shook his head a little.

"You make it sound like you're gonna kidnap me."

Ivan looked at him with a serious expression

"I would if they try to stop me."

"I'll go willingly, you know," Gilbert gave him a crooked amused smile that made Ivan look a little guilty.

"I know," Ivan said and led Gilbert to the bed. "I...I am worried about tomorrow too. I've already made up my mind. If I have to compromise something to have you back, I will."

Gilbert laid down on the bed and put his hands behind his head.

"I don't know why anyone would object. I'm useless now, I don't have a geographical presence anymore. I'm not a threat like before..."

Ivan sat beside him; he could feel the sad reality in Gilbert's words and wanted to be close to him. He looked over Gilbert's body as his torso was on display down to his hips and belly. He was still very thin and his ribs were clearly visible and his muscle had reduced almost completely. It was obvious that he still tried to work out and take care of himself, but it wasn't enough to fight the dissolution, and he still got sick fairly often. Ivan gazed over his body and saw the many scars on his body that he'd obtained over the years, some of which Ivan was "responsible" for himself. There were scars from sword wounds along his waist, stab wounds in his abdomen, and old stitch marks from being patched up. The faded burn in the middle of his chest from Königsberg was a particularly painful one for Ivan to look at.

Ivan wanted to fix all of it.

"You're not useless to me, Gilbie. I will take you home where you belong." Ivan looked away. "I'm just sorry you'll have to endure the cold of Russia again. I know you hate it."

Gilbert saw how conflicted Ivan was — he wanted him in Russia but didn't want him to be uncomfortable.

"You hate the cold too. Besides, that's why we have each other." When Ivan looked at him, he saw Gilbert's eyes aimed to the side of the room with a light blush on his cheeks. "We always did a good job of keeping each other warm before..."

Ivan smiled and then leaned over the other and looked down at him.

"I remember, but I can't keep you warm like I used to," he said and Gilbert looked confusedly at him, brows furrowed. Ivan lightly slid his fingertips over Gilbert's ribcage and felt each indent. "Not when you're sick like this..."

"I'm not going to break," Gilbert told him.

"You don't know that!" Ivan hissed out in a fearful whisper. "And I... I tend to break things I touch, I—" Gilbert's hand cupped his jaw and his thumb rubbed his cheek.

"You haven't broke me yet," he said. Ivan couldn't deny it, but he still felt guilty. "But I mean, I'm not asking for that now anyway," he laughed nervously and looked away awkwardly. "It's like 4am, it's late, we shouldn't even think about doing it," Gilbert rambled on, laughing, and looked increasingly more nervous.

It was adorable—and reassuring—that Gilbert truly liked being with Ivan and still felt shy about it despite the years, and could muster the energy to even feel shy about it in his state.

"I know, Gilbert. I know why you came here," Ivan spoke as he removed Gilbert's boots and tossed them to the floor. He moved next to him and laid there, Gilbert then scooted closer, Ivan draped one arm over him and covered him with the blanket. They moved in silence and perfectly as they'd done it many times before; they knew how to move with each other, and what the other liked. Gilbert shifted onto his side and cuddled against Ivan as Ivan wrapped his arm around his back.

"You're so warm," Gilbert commented with a contented sigh. Ivan blushed and pulled Gilbert's closer to make him warmer. Their bodies fit together like puzzle pieces — perfectly made for each other. Legs tangled and shifted for a while before settling on a spot. Gilbert was particularly shifty and liked to move and took a while to find a comfortable spot, similar to a cat. Eventually, one of his legs was between Ivan's and his head was fit snugly under Ivan's chin.

"Think you can sleep now?" Ivan asked and pet Gilbert's head.

"Mmn," Gilbert mewled softly and nuzzled his head into Ivan's neck. Ivan moved to hug him more but Gilbert grunted. "Keep touching my hair," he murmured.

Ivan smiled and closed his eyes. Happiness rose in his chest and he felt such an immense sense of warmth throughout his entire body.

"Yes, of course," Ivan whispered and placed his hand on Gilbert's head again, and began to stroke his fingers through his white locks.

It wasn't long before Gilbert's breathing slowed and he began to softly snore. Ivan laid there awake for a while longer to enjoy the feel of the man he loved in his arms. Soon they'd be home together and they would share a bed every night, just as they used to.

Ivan fell asleep with a smile on his face, with that blissful future in his mind.

Thanks for reading!
Remember to leave a comment if you enjoyed! Thank you! 💕

Aren't they so freakin' cute?

Author's notes/thoughts:
•I have this HC that when Königsberg was bombed, it left a burn injury on Gilbert's chest over his heart since it was his original capital. Now, Ivan feels so much guilt whenever he sees that scar because it reminds him of a horrible thing he was forced to do to someone he loved because his boss ordered him to. Gilbert doesn't blame him though; he knows that Ivan would never hurt him willingly.
•Thank you to the Yuri on Ice fandom for teaching me that in Russia, weddings rings are worn on the right ring finger, unlike the left like in my own country. It's such a cute opportunity for fluff and shy actions. To elaborate, if you don't know: It's a tradition passed down from Rome where they wore their wedding rings on the right hand because the left hand was considered to be "sinister and untrustworthy" (note the line in the fic about Gilbert finding it funny since he is left-handed. Bit of irony), but it has the same meaning on both hands.