The room was silent, curtains drawn up to hide the moon's light keeping the area in a near pitch black. The only light came from the night light in the corner of the room, the colors going through the rainbow slowly. The light was dull enough to not draw attention but bright enough for the two figures in the room to see each other's faces. America was sitting up slightly, shoulders pressed back against the pillows that were being crushed between his shoulder blades and the front board of the bed. He was gently rubbing Russia's scalp, drifting in and out of sleep with each breath. The Russian was on his stomach, cheek squished against America's pecs and arms wrapped around the other. Beneficial to them both, it became a bit of a routine. The two began to often cuddle like this after a day at work, or when neither had anything better to do.
A low humming noise came from the Russian's throat as the American continued to rub his head, eyes closing. Russia moved his head up a bit, settling the side of his head against the upper part of America's chest. He felt a little under dressed from just wearing a T-shirt and boxers when America was wearing a thick jacket and sweats, but he was mostly under the sheets and America made a nice warm pack anyway.
Russia's thoughts shifted as his boyfriend started to rub the back of his neck, thinking back on when he first laid eyes on America. It'd been in a hospital, right after his father was arrested, and apparently, America and Ukraine had rushed over once UN allowed them to. Thinking back on it, it was sweet on the American's need to know and see over everything including another Slavic countryhuman.
But again, it felt strange to be aware that America knew so much about Russia without him even telling him. A lot of countryhumans knew about his personal history back with Soviet Union thanks to his other siblings opening up, and about how he had to talk to UN and a few authorities to get his father officially thrown into a facility for countryhumans who should've died but didn't/couldn't. He didn't know much about America's personal history, just knowing minor things here and there in the timeline.
His eyes opened, vision splotchy from the darkness in the room and from keeping his eyes closed for such a long time. Eventually, they adjusted and he got a good sight of his boyfriend's lovely face. The slight 4 o'clock shadow barely see able, the white hair, closed tired eyes, stripe-like scars… how Russia loved America. Pressing a kiss against America's chest, he lifted his head and set his chin on the American's chest to look up at him. "Just realized I don't know much about your life. Just some basics," he murmured, the words feeling like a sin as he said them out loud. How could he be so in love and be dating this man for so many months and not know all about him? It truly did feel like an offense.
America's eyes blinked open, looking downward into Russia's peacock-blue eyes. A sleepy smile tugged at the corners of his lips and he leaned his head back against the headboard of the bed with a sigh and closed his eyes. "Mhm." was all he said, the mind too muddled with sleepiness to recognize that Russia had been gesturing for America to share.
Rolling his eyes, Russia set his cheek back against America's chest and looked off the side. One of America's arms slid to the side, but the other continued to rub the back of the Russian's scalp. Russia raised a hand to feel the arm that had gone limp, running his palm over the fabric of the jacket but pressing down enough to feel the scars under the cloth. He knew what the scars were and what they were from, not even having needed to ask when he first saw them. It'd have caused a scene anyway. But he also would have liked to know the reason behind them. Russia knew America did it to himself, but he just didn't know why America did. In a way, he wanted to know so he could hopefully keep his boyfriend from feeling that way again.
Closing his eyes, he pulled his hand away, wrapping the arm around America and snuggling a bit closer, deciding to let it go for now. If America wasn't ready to share with him, he wouldn't push.