[Posted: December 22, 2019]
I've missed many days already but this is for the Snowball fight prompt for the HetaliaXmasEvent. Thanks to daengore for giving me this cute idea!
While not officially a part of my Memories series, this ficlet does take place in December 1950, 14 months after Gilbert wakes up as East Germany, and has been living with Ivan in Saint Petersburg for about a year.
Warnings: Nationverse. Fluff. Hurt/Comfort. Light Angst.
It was warm enough inside that the windows weren't fogging up, but the glass had frosted over and delicate and beautiful ice designs crept along the edges. Somehow, even with the warmth inside, Gilbert still had a chill in his bones.
As he looked outside at the grey sky and white blanket of snow covering the ground around the manner, he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. In the garden, Ivan was shoveling snow from the walkways. It looked unpleasant if Gilbert was being honest, being out in the cold and doing work. One thing that occurred to him, though, was that it was Ivan himself doing it, not one of the other nations.
That thought made him think of his family. He always spent Christmas with Ludwig and the others, but now he was trapped in this cold house. It was the first Christmas he was really spending alone and away from home.
He watched Ivan shovel until one of the paths was completely cleared and stopped for a break. He hated the tightening in his chest and the itch in his feet to move. He didn't want to be alone and right now, Ivan was the only one in his sight. He hated the feeling; hated knowing that he was sad and felt alone. Hated giving in.
After a few minutes of contemplating it, fully knowing he was going to regardless of how long he hesitated, he finally made his way outside.
Ivan scooped a heap of snow with his shovel and tossed it to the side so it was out of the garden path. He'd been out there for about a half-hour but moving around so much kept him warm; he was even starting to sweat under his heavy coat.
'At least it isn't snowing today,' Ivan thought as he looked up at the bright, cloudy sky. Something about the crisp air felt good as he breathed it in; he hated the cold, but it had its moments.
Then, he heard a noise behind him. When he turned and saw Gilbert in his winter coat and scarf, his eyes widened slightly in surprise. Gilbert looked unhappy, and although he knew the man wasn't pleased with being in Russia, he looked more upset than usual.
"Why are you out here?" Ivan asked and stuck his shovel in the snow before taking a step towards the other man. Gilbert crossed his arms and tensed from the cold. The idea of admitting to why he was there made him grimace; Ivan would make fun of him or use it against him in some way, but he couldn't think of any other excuse.
"I don't know," Gilbert answered after too long a time had passed.
Ivan tilted his head and studied Gilbert's face. He had that expression he got when he didn't want to talk but had something on his mind. Ivan still wasn't sure how to react to Gilbert when he was like this; it always ended with more silence or Gilbert yelling at him. Ivan frowned. Gilbert was stubborn and likely wouldn't speak, so he walked up to a bench along the path, took his shovel, and scraped the snow off.
"You can sit if you want," Ivan said, then immediately turned to continue shoveling the path. He wanted Gilbert to know that he could sit there and that he'd stay and keep him company if he needed it.
Although he hesitated out of pride for more than a few seconds, Gilbert eventually sat on the cold stone. From there, Gilbert watched Ivan shovel the snow. He could see how red his cheeks and ears were from the cold and assumed his were turning red as well. Despite the prickling in his face from the wind, Gilbert did feel better just from the slight bit of interaction, even if it was from Ivan.
A few minutes passed and Ivan sat next to Gilbert, let out a heavy sigh, then glanced over to him.
"So, are you ready now?" he asked. Gilbert recoiled and looked disconcerted.
"What?" he asked.
"You always do this when something's on your mind. You show up, stay quiet, but eventually you'll tell me what's wrong. It's honestly infuriating sometimes."
Gilbert narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms tight.
"Well sorry, I won't bother you then."
Gilbert stood up and started to walk away, but Ivan grabbed his wrist and made him stop. He turned back to look at him, growling a bit as he did.
"What are you—" he started but stopped when he saw Ivan's frown and knitted brows. "What?"
"Tell me what's wrong. You seem upset," Ivan said. "More than usual, I mean..."
Gilbert rolled his eyes, sat back down, and then leaned back against the stone bench. The chill seeped through his coat and made his back cold.
"It's Christmas time," Gilbert finally mumbled. Ivan took in a quiet breath — everything made sense to him the instant Gilbert spoke. "Last year I was...sick. Didn't really care since I was bedridden, but now..."
"But now you're missing home," Ivan finished for him. Gilbert growled softly.
"Yeah, I am."
"I'm sorry," Ivan said and closed his eyes for a moment. "I didn't realize before."
"Yeah well, I wouldn't expect you to."
Ivan pulled his scarf up. He felt cold. Colder. Gilbert's words felt like daggers to him but he knew he was still hurting from everything that happened, and now he was forced to spend the holidays with someone he disliked, in a place he hated. They stayed quiet for several minutes with just the sound of the wind howling gently as it passed their ears. Ivan glanced around at the snow on the trees, then watched as a clump of it slid off and fell into a pile below. Seeing it happen gave Ivan an idea and he shifted his eyes over to Gilbert, who was still sulking and looking even more frustrated.
Ivan stood up, which got Gilbert's attention but he didn't question it. He walked over to the pile of snow, then knelt down and cupped some of it into his hands until it formed into a ball. After a few seconds, Gilbert was curious and moved his head to try to see around him.
"I'm sorry," Ivan said as he stood up. Gilbert raised an eyebrow and as he opened his mouth to question him, Ivan spun his body and threw the snowball at him. It slammed into his chest and spattered across him, leaving his black coat painted with white dust. Gilbert looked down at himself and looked at the remnants of the snowball all over his nice coat, then growled as his irritation rose.
"Hey!" Gilbert shouted as he snapped his eyes back to Ivan, but he stopped when he saw Ivan's hand in front of his mouth, his eyes squinted shut, body trembling a bit. He was giggling. Gilbert hadn't seen him like that in a long time and it made him pause. When Ivan finally stopped laughing, he sighed and then his expression returned to a more serious one.
"You're not going to let me win, are you?" Ivan challenged him with a small, tight smile.
It took a moment for it to register in Gilbert's head, but once it did, a large grin spread across his face and he jumped up from the bench.
"Not a chance!" Gilbert sunk his bare hands into the nearby pile of snow and formed it into a ball, while Ivan turned to run further into the garden. "Hey! Come back here, you coward!" Gilbert yelled at him, his voice echoing slightly.
That's what Ivan wanted to see, that grin of Gilbert's, that fighting spirit, that energy in his voice that he knew was buried deep inside of him; the old Gilbert he knew so long ago. He knew Gilbert couldn't resist a competition, especially with him.
As Ivan ran, he suddenly felt an impact in the middle of his back and heard Gilbert celebrate some paces behind him. Ivan stopped and leaned over and his grin widened. He wouldn't just let Gilbert win. Oh no, Gilbert wouldn't accept it if he felt like Ivan went easy on him, so he didn't. The slight pain in his back made him smile as he packed more snow together, but Gilbert thought it was strange that he was doing it right in front of him. He realized why when Ivan turned and ran straight for him.
It was then that Gilbert had another realization: Ivan was much better at running through snow than he was. Struggling as he ran through the deep snow, Gilbert tried his best to gather another snowball, then twisted to throw it at Ivan. It hit his chest but did nothing to stop the man from chasing him.
Ducking under a small fence, Gilbert left the garden, grabbed more snow, and hid behind a tree where he perfected the ammo in his hands. He waited to hear the crunching of snow get closer and closer until finally, he peeked out. Both of their snowballs hit each other, then they looked to one another as they panted slightly and wore satisfied smiles.
Ivan felt his cheeks warm at the sight. It had been so long since he saw Gilbert's face so happy and healthy-looking. He wanted to see it more.
Continuing the battle, they loaded up on snowballs and chased each other through the open snowy fields just outside of Ivan's manor. Unaware of the fact that a few of the other nations who also lived there were looking out the windows at them, they kept pelting each other with snowballs for several minutes.
Gilbert began to feel winded and struggled to catch his breath. He hated it but he knew he was still recovering, but it felt good to feel the cold in his lungs, to move and feel his heart beating with adrenaline.
A snowball slammed into Gilbert's back and caused him to lose his balance. He stumbled and grunted as he fell into the snow on his side, then coughed a few times as Ivan loomed over him, already holding another snowball.
"Do you surrender?" Ivan asked.
Gilbert chuckled through one of his coughs.
"Never," he answered, then dragged his hand through the snow and tossed a cloud of loose snow all over Ivan's front. Ivan was stunned for a moment but then laughed.
"That was a dirty trick," Ivan said as he knelt down next to him, dropping his snowball in the process. "That was a good fight, I yield."
Gilbert blinked at him, then smiled wide before laughing loudly. It was music to Ivan's ears. Seeing Gilbert curled up in the snow, laughing, face red from the cold and panting hard from the activity — it made Ivan so happy.
Gilbert flipped onto his back, stretched out his limbs and enjoyed the cold through his clothes. He was tired and felt a bit sore, but it felt good.
"That was fun," he admitted and looked at Ivan. He realized why Ivan started it and didn't have to ask him. "Thanks..."
"Come on, let's go back inside." Ivan smiled and then held his hand out.
Gilbert hesitated for a moment. The adrenaline was wearing off and he was coming back to his senses, but something about Ivan's demeanor was comforting, even if only for the moment. He took Ivan's gloved hand and was helped up off the ground.
Ivan looked at Gilbert's hand and felt how cold he was even through his own gloves. His white skin was bright red from the icy snow he'd been shoving his hands into for so long, and it worried him. Instinctively without thinking, he brought both of Gilbert's hands up to his mouth, cupped his hands around them, and gently breathed on them.
The action made Gilbert tense and blush a bit although no one could tell. His body tensed, but the warmth from Ivan's breath eased the pain in his fingers and made him more comfortable. He saw how calm Ivan looked as well, eyes closed and his features relaxed. The quiet moment brought back some memories.
"Sorry," Ivan apologized as he pulled away, but he still held one of Gilbert's hands. "Your fingers were so red, I didn't want them to—"
"It's fine," Gilbert interrupted him. "Let's...go back inside. I want coffee."
Ivan stared at him for a moment before smiling softly.
"Yes, coffee sounds nice."
As they turned back to the house, Ivan let his hand slip off of Gilbert's. The sudden loss of warmth made Gilbert shiver and he slowed his pace a little. He didn't know why, but he wouldn't have minded if Ivan held his hand. It was warm and felt comfortable. It was a warmth that felt familiar — a warmth that he associated with memories from centuries ago that he cherished deeply.
Despite that, he shook his head and jogged to catch up to Ivan, shoving his hands into his coat pockets as he did.
Thanks for reading!
Remember to leave a comment if you enjoyed! Thank you! 💕
Wrote this in like 4 hours and honestly, I'm pretty happy with it. Happy holidays everyone 🎄🎁
Author's notes/thoughts:
•You'd think that Gilbert would have learned to not engage in any type of battle in the snow with a Russian.