"Kiku-u," Russia called, lying on the sofa. The answer was silence.
"Japan," Ivan said with a little more persistently, but again he received no reply.
Honda sat in an armchair and was so carried away by the book that it seemed that he did not notice what was happening around.
"Delightful..." he whispered leafing through the pages. "What a wonderfully talented author..."
Russia resentfully pouted his lips, stood up and quietly crept up to nothing not seeing Japan from the back.
"Kiku," a hot whisper touched the back of the head of the Japanese, and warm hands turned around a thin waist, pressing him closer to the body behind.
"I-Ivan-san," Japan blushed to the roots of his hair. The book fell out of his hands. "What are y-you doing?"
"Do not ignore me," smiled Braginsky, burying his forehead on a dark-haired top.
"Good. Then you assume all responsibility for what is happening."
Russia laughed.
"With great pleasure."