Ever the Same [LietPolLiet] [3/?]
anonymous
August 25 2009, 17:56:40 UTC
An errant shell exploded too near to the shed for comfort; out of habit, Poland hit the ground, pulling Lithuania with him. When long enough had passed to make it apparent that no one was aiming at their shelter, Poland sat up with a sigh, resting his back against the wall.
Lithuania, pushing himself up enough to lie in Poland's arms, had felt the atmosphere shift again, and knew before Poland spoke that the blond's attempt at levity was over.
"I don't wanna go back out there."
"Me, neither," replied Lithuania, so softly that Poland could hardly hear him above the racket.
"Couldn't we like... make it stop? Make them stop fighting each other?"
Lithuania sighed, pillowing his head against Poland's shoulder. Poland's hand came up to stroke at his hair, and against all odds, he felt himself relax. "I don't know, Poland. They don't seem like they're going to agree any time soon..."
"I mean... My boss... Piłsudski's like, being a major dick about it, sure, but he pretty much, like, wants to get the Commonwealth going again. That's... Like, what could be bad about that?"
There it was again, that ache in Lithuania's chest as his heart was pulled two ways. "My people don't want that," he said. It wasn't the answer Poland wanted, and he braced himself for the blond's outburst.
"Yeah, but like, what about what you want?" Poland demanded, holding Lithuania closer. "Tell me that, Liet!"
Lithuania closed his eyes, pressed his face to Poland's shoulder.
He thought of late summers long, long ago, spent splashing in their rivers, riding along their borders, working in their fields, wound in each other's arms at night...
He thought of the freedom he and his children had needed, had been denied, for so long.
Try though he might to tell himself what his people kept telling him, he couldn't bring himself to believe that they weren't the same thing.
"I want what you do," he admitted, wishing that he could just melt into Poland then and there, and never have to stare down a gun barrel at him so long as they both lived. Poland curled in around him, as though he could grant that wish through his will alone. "I want to be together with you, Poland, but--"
"I'm like, sick of but, Liet. I'm totally, gag-me-with-a-spoon, never wanna hear it again in my life sick of 'I can't', and 'you have to', and 'if only'!" Grief thickened Poland's voice, made him sound like an old engine about to collapse. He sounded exhausted. Bitter. "I... Liet..."
Lithuania didn't want to hear Poland sounding like that. He took one of his former partner's hands in both of his own, pressing a soft kiss to the back of it. "If I were human," he said, "I'd run away with you right now. I'd leave my people behind and take you away from all of this, and to Hell with the rest." Of course, they couldn't. It didn't work like that--they couldn't be separated from their people. But... "Since I can't do that, give me today to be with you. We can steal a little time, can't we?"
When Poland smiled, it was like the sun coming out on the first day of spring. "I don't know, Liet, that running off together thing sounds totally tempting... Like, give the neighbors something to gossip about when the League of Nations stuff got boring, right?" He sobered, pressing a kiss to Lithuania's cheek. "Always, though. I'm like, all yours... Today, and tonight, and like, whenever you'll have me, Liet."
It was so easy, so natural, so right to lean up and kiss Poland right then that Lithuania wondered how on Earth his people couldn't want it as much as he did. How could they not want to be with Poland, when he opened his mouth to invite Lithuania in, dainty hands pressed against his back, slim body holding him like a lifeline?
Poland melted into the kiss, trying to forget everything else. Let our children fight, he thought, drunk on the feeling of Lithuania's skin beneath his fingertips as he relieved him of his jacket and shirt. Let them burn the crops, let them tear our houses to the ground, but please, God, Holy Father, please, let us stay together. Just a little longer, as long as we can, please!
Lithuania, pushing himself up enough to lie in Poland's arms, had felt the atmosphere shift again, and knew before Poland spoke that the blond's attempt at levity was over.
"I don't wanna go back out there."
"Me, neither," replied Lithuania, so softly that Poland could hardly hear him above the racket.
"Couldn't we like... make it stop? Make them stop fighting each other?"
Lithuania sighed, pillowing his head against Poland's shoulder. Poland's hand came up to stroke at his hair, and against all odds, he felt himself relax. "I don't know, Poland. They don't seem like they're going to agree any time soon..."
"I mean... My boss... Piłsudski's like, being a major dick about it, sure, but he pretty much, like, wants to get the Commonwealth going again. That's... Like, what could be bad about that?"
There it was again, that ache in Lithuania's chest as his heart was pulled two ways. "My people don't want that," he said. It wasn't the answer Poland wanted, and he braced himself for the blond's outburst.
"Yeah, but like, what about what you want?" Poland demanded, holding Lithuania closer. "Tell me that, Liet!"
Lithuania closed his eyes, pressed his face to Poland's shoulder.
He thought of late summers long, long ago, spent splashing in their rivers, riding along their borders, working in their fields, wound in each other's arms at night...
He thought of the freedom he and his children had needed, had been denied, for so long.
Try though he might to tell himself what his people kept telling him, he couldn't bring himself to believe that they weren't the same thing.
"I want what you do," he admitted, wishing that he could just melt into Poland then and there, and never have to stare down a gun barrel at him so long as they both lived. Poland curled in around him, as though he could grant that wish through his will alone. "I want to be together with you, Poland, but--"
"I'm like, sick of but, Liet. I'm totally, gag-me-with-a-spoon, never wanna hear it again in my life sick of 'I can't', and 'you have to', and 'if only'!" Grief thickened Poland's voice, made him sound like an old engine about to collapse. He sounded exhausted. Bitter. "I... Liet..."
Lithuania didn't want to hear Poland sounding like that. He took one of his former partner's hands in both of his own, pressing a soft kiss to the back of it. "If I were human," he said, "I'd run away with you right now. I'd leave my people behind and take you away from all of this, and to Hell with the rest." Of course, they couldn't. It didn't work like that--they couldn't be separated from their people. But... "Since I can't do that, give me today to be with you. We can steal a little time, can't we?"
When Poland smiled, it was like the sun coming out on the first day of spring. "I don't know, Liet, that running off together thing sounds totally tempting... Like, give the neighbors something to gossip about when the League of Nations stuff got boring, right?" He sobered, pressing a kiss to Lithuania's cheek. "Always, though. I'm like, all yours... Today, and tonight, and like, whenever you'll have me, Liet."
It was so easy, so natural, so right to lean up and kiss Poland right then that Lithuania wondered how on Earth his people couldn't want it as much as he did. How could they not want to be with Poland, when he opened his mouth to invite Lithuania in, dainty hands pressed against his back, slim body holding him like a lifeline?
Poland melted into the kiss, trying to forget everything else. Let our children fight, he thought, drunk on the feeling of Lithuania's skin beneath his fingertips as he relieved him of his jacket and shirt. Let them burn the crops, let them tear our houses to the ground, but please, God, Holy Father, please, let us stay together. Just a little longer, as long as we can, please!
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