Chapter Summary: China is not happy when Russia appears on his doorstep smelling of another wolf's blood.
Ch. 21: Bad Wolf
October 31, 8:15
The only reason China is at home and not prowling about on such a fine night is the full moon, and the fact that Norway never came to call. He wasn't about to deny his lover a night to hunt freely, but he fully expects him to come back before dawn so they can share a meal together in their inhuman forms.
He smells Russia when he is still miles off; there's blood on him. He absolutely reeks of it. China digs his nails into his chair and hisses. That pig! How dare he come here smelling like his favorite puppy and that fairy! Did he kill them, to smell like that? Either way, he is in a great deal of trouble.
Outside, Russia is bloody, beaten and shamed. He sent Belarus away as soon as he was across the border, and sure that he could walk on his own. He is wounded, but that doesn't bother him as much as the loss of his pack. Wounds can heal, and Yao does not mind the taste of his blood. He knows the vampire can smell him - so why isn't he coming to the door?
Russia barks, ending in a soft whine for his poor ribs. There is no answer. He sniffs at the air, but there's nothing wrong with it. It's only China and Hong Kong. He whines again, scratching at the front porch.
Hong Kong sets China's tea on the coffee table, blinking at the shadow on their lawn. "There's..." He squints, heading for the window. "Holy shit. There's a big fucking wolf in our yard."
"I know," China snaps, picking up his tea and taking a little sip. Lying little werepig. His nails dig into the seat cushion, nearly puncturing it. "Don't bother with it."
"Um..." Hong Kong blinks again, moving closer to the window. "I don't think it's going away."
"Throw rocks at it," China commands, sipping tea. Werepig, how dare you show up here smelling of your little puppy's blood! He snarls to himself, drawing his feet up and curling them beneath him.
"Um..." Even under China's vampiric thrall, Hong Kong has managed to retain his sarcasm and a modicum of free will. He moves to the door warily. "We don't have any rocks."
"Use the spare tea cups. Go ahead." China waves a hand.
"Okay..." Hong Kong grabs a couple of chipped cups from the cupboard, cracks the door, and tosses one at the wolf.
Russia avoids the sudden projectiles with some difficulty. Annoyed, he growls and snaps at the glass. He does not like being hit with things, and he is tired and hurt. He wants to go inside and curl up with China, and he would very much like to eat whatever tasty meat is around. He is no pet, though, and he is not going to play fetch. This time he comes closer with his hackles raised, growling at the door.
"Um..." Hong Kong turns, trying to reason with China. "He's growling."
"Uh-huh," China hums, finally letting go of the chair to stand up. If Ivan is going to play this game, he will play with the one he will hesitate to maim. "Go to your room."
"Gladly." Hong Kong runs up the stairs, leaving China to fend off the beast alone.
Sighing a little, China goes to the door and opens it, facing Russia with the sternest look in his arsenal. "You smell like puppy and fairy. What have I told you?"
Russia flattens his ears, however he cannot hold out long against that gaze. He lies down and whimpers. But fairies are tasty!
"I do not care that fairies are tasty," China replies. He learned to read Russia's dog-speak long ago. "They are not for eating, or fucking. Steak is for eating. I am for fucking."
Russia cocks his head to the side. Steak is boring. It does not run or scream or play. Nor do they fuck when the moon is full; that's a line even they are not willing to cross. He nudges China's foot. He is not domesticated like his puppies, but for China he is gentle.
China sighs and his gaze softens. "Alright," he murmurs, heading into the house. The steak has already been thawed and is simply waiting on the floor to be consumed. "I'll heal you, and we can snuggle. After you eat."
Russia limps after him, his tail wagging a little. The steak is not fun, but he is hungry. He gnaws on it, trying not to growl when China gets close; he knows better than to take something that Russia is eating. That's just a good way to lose a hand.
China kneels by his lover's side, licking his fingers and rubbing spit over the wounds, healing them slowly. "I told you to stay away from those two. Only trouble."
The wolf's jaws clamp hard around the steak and Russia growls. They are MINE. Then he whines, lapping at the mix of blood on his paws. Though perhaps I should not have tried to eat the wila. He just smells so good!
"Oh, there-there." China scratches Russia's ears before moving back toward the couch and licking his fingers clean. "I'll let you hunt in my forest. Just do not eat the pandas; they are rare, and very nice to have around."
Russia finishes off the steak in a few large bites, then makes his way over to the couch. He is still limping some; China can heal the cuts and bites, but he cannot fix broken ribs. On the bright side, it may provoke a rare bit of pity from the vampire. He whines and sits at China's feet, his head resting in his lap.
"Awe," China pouts, petting Russia's head and scratching his ears. "You are still hurt, aru? My poor Ivan... Want to curl up in my bed? We can snuggle until the dawn comes."
Russia's tale thumps against the floor. He had planned to spend the night hunting, but he will face his pack again when he has healed. He won't be underestimating them again. In the meantime, there are more pleasant things to do.