Help yourself, detka. (2/?) TBC
anonymous
September 6 2009, 14:25:01 UTC
Soon enough they reached a large dining room. In the middle of it there was a medium-sized round table.. wait, it only seemed medium sized compared to the room, actually, it was huge! 'What the hell for does a person who lives alone need such a huge table?' - Antonio thought in surprise. There were 2 chairs on the opposite sides of the table. Ivan took the smaller nation to one of the chairs and made sure that he was sitting comfortably, then walked around the table to his own chair and set down as well. The smile on his face was widening by the minute, making him look dangerous, as he was looking at Antonio from across the table. In a few minutes, the first course was on the table: two bowls of broth, one for each oh the nations and huge plates with piles of pirozhki on them.
- Priyatnogo appetita! - cheerfully said Ivan. - Good appetite.
- Yes, to you too, - answered Antonio as he was looking at the food with interest. After the long trip and all the stress of seeing Ivan, he was quite hungry. In fact, when the smell of pirozhki reached his nostrils, he realised he had been starving the whole time.
The broth was steaming hot, rich and thick, with small pieces of vegetables in it, but nothing else.
- You eat it with pirozhki, - Ivan explained.
Antonio grabbed one of the pastries and looked at it questioningly for a second, as if he was anticipating the probability of Russia slipping some poison into there. He took a deep breath and then took a bite. Delicious! Under a thin layer of batter there was minced meat, stewed before it had been put in the pirozhki. Antonio was chewing happily, spoon in one hand, a pirozhok in another. He tried different kinds of pirozhki from different plates. There were ones with cabbage, ones with eggs and leeks, with mushrooms, some interesting triangle ones with rice, two types of fish, and eggs, and mushrooms, and fish liver, all in layers, divided by thin pancakes inside the pastry ("Ah, this is called kulebyaka. It is very traditional. Tasty,da?"). Ivan's food was very different from Antonio's, meant to keep people warm when they had to work outside on cold winter days, highly nutritious, but not fattening.... Spain was enjoying another spoonfull of hot broth when he looked at Russia and realised that the other country had his eyes on him the whole time, watching his every move and smiling, smiling the same way again..
- I...Ivan? Is anything wrong? Am I..
- Am I interrupting your meal, Spain? Please don't mind me. The people of my country have starved for centuries because of the actions of my bosses, so that's why I enjoy watching people eat. Especially a cute malysh like you.
- Malysh?
- It means "ittle one". It is a gentle word, so don't take offence, da? A shot of vodka?
- Yes, please, - Antonio couldn't help but smile, his cheeks burning from the hot meal, and maybe a little from something else. Not only didn't he take offence, it was somehow nice, being called a gentle word like this, it gave him a warm feeling... at the thought of it, Spain's cheeks turned an even brighter shade of pink.
Lost in thought, he didn't notice the footsteps until Ivan was near him, putting a bottle of vodka and two small shotglasses on the table and then pouring some for both of them. They raised the glasses.
-Za lyubov! - announed Ivan. - To love. It is a very traditional toast.
Russia quickly emptied his glass and watched with amusement as Spain, who had never had vodka before, smelt the translucent liquid.
- Oh, da, I almost forgot, - Ivan put a plate of salted cucumbers on the table, - Here, take one, drink, and then eat quickly.
Re: Help yourself, detka. (2/?) TBC
anonymous
September 6 2009, 17:25:10 UTC
ok! nobody saw me deanon, da? XD --------------------------
Antonio took a deep breath. 'Well, if I've eaten something and I'm still alive, maybe I will survive this too" - he thouht with a smile. He looked down at his hands, closed his eyes and drank quickly. The vodka burned his throat, a splash of bitter taste in his mouth, sharp smell of alcohol hitting his nostrils.. he remembered and quickly took a bite of the cucumber. Ah, much better! The taste was not too salty, but not too sour either, completely removing the aftertaste of vodka from his mouth and making him feel refreshed.
- Oh! This is not that bad! - Antonio was truly surprised, as he took another bite of the cucumper. That Russian way of drinking was not that disgusting after all.
- Why should it be? - smiled Ivan, who was now eyeing Antonio with even more interest. Unlike Russia, the smaller nation had lower tolerance to alcohol and his cheeks were visibly burning up now. - What is it, malysh? Your cheeks look like raspberries. I'll take a bite, da? That second, Ivan bent down to the level of Antonio's face, grabbed his chin gently, but still posessively and licked his cheek, and then planted a warm, wet kiss on it.
- Eh?.. Ivan??... Wha..?
- It's just a little, so it's OK, da? Now we will have tea.
Ivan returned to his side of the table, leaving Antonio confused, red as a beetroot and slightly shocked, touching his own cheek, which was still a bit wet.
In a few minutes, the first course was on the table: two bowls of broth, one for each oh the nations and huge plates with piles of pirozhki on them.
- Priyatnogo appetita! - cheerfully said Ivan. - Good appetite.
- Yes, to you too, - answered Antonio as he was looking at the food with interest. After the long trip and all the stress of seeing Ivan, he was quite hungry. In fact, when the smell of pirozhki reached his nostrils, he realised he had been starving the whole time.
The broth was steaming hot, rich and thick, with small pieces of vegetables in it, but nothing else.
- You eat it with pirozhki, - Ivan explained.
Antonio grabbed one of the pastries and looked at it questioningly for a second, as if he was anticipating the probability of Russia slipping some poison into there. He took a deep breath and then took a bite. Delicious! Under a thin layer of batter there was minced meat, stewed before it had been put in the pirozhki. Antonio was chewing happily, spoon in one hand, a pirozhok in another. He tried different kinds of pirozhki from different plates. There were ones with cabbage, ones with eggs and leeks, with mushrooms, some interesting triangle ones with rice, two types of fish, and eggs, and mushrooms, and fish liver, all in layers, divided by thin pancakes inside the pastry ("Ah, this is called kulebyaka. It is very traditional. Tasty,da?"). Ivan's food was very different from Antonio's, meant to keep people warm when they had to work outside on cold winter days, highly nutritious, but not fattening.... Spain was enjoying another spoonfull of hot broth when he looked at Russia and realised that the other country had his eyes on him the whole time, watching his every move and smiling, smiling the same way again..
- I...Ivan? Is anything wrong? Am I..
- Am I interrupting your meal, Spain? Please don't mind me. The people of my country have starved for centuries because of the actions of my bosses, so that's why I enjoy watching people eat. Especially a cute malysh like you.
- Malysh?
- It means "ittle one". It is a gentle word, so don't take offence, da? A shot of vodka?
- Yes, please, - Antonio couldn't help but smile, his cheeks burning from the hot meal, and maybe a little from something else. Not only didn't he take offence, it was somehow nice, being called a gentle word like this, it gave him a warm feeling... at the thought of it, Spain's cheeks turned an even brighter shade of pink.
Lost in thought, he didn't notice the footsteps until Ivan was near him, putting a bottle of vodka and two small shotglasses on the table and then pouring some for both of them. They raised the glasses.
-Za lyubov! - announed Ivan. - To love. It is a very traditional toast.
Russia quickly emptied his glass and watched with amusement as Spain, who had never had vodka before, smelt the translucent liquid.
- Oh, da, I almost forgot, - Ivan put a plate of salted cucumbers on the table, - Here, take one, drink, and then eat quickly.
Reply
--------------------------
Antonio took a deep breath. 'Well, if I've eaten something and I'm still alive, maybe I will survive this too" - he thouht with a smile. He looked down at his hands, closed his eyes and drank quickly. The vodka burned his throat, a splash of bitter taste in his mouth, sharp smell of alcohol hitting his nostrils.. he remembered and quickly took a bite of the cucumber. Ah, much better! The taste was not too salty, but not too sour either, completely removing the aftertaste of vodka from his mouth and making him feel refreshed.
- Oh! This is not that bad! - Antonio was truly surprised, as he took another bite of the cucumper. That Russian way of drinking was not that disgusting after all.
- Why should it be? - smiled Ivan, who was now eyeing Antonio with even more interest. Unlike Russia, the smaller nation had lower tolerance to alcohol and his cheeks were visibly burning up now. - What is it, malysh? Your cheeks look like raspberries. I'll take a bite, da?
That second, Ivan bent down to the level of Antonio's face, grabbed his chin gently, but still posessively and licked his cheek, and then planted a warm, wet kiss on it.
- Eh?.. Ivan??... Wha..?
- It's just a little, so it's OK, da? Now we will have tea.
Ivan returned to his side of the table, leaving Antonio confused, red as a beetroot and slightly shocked, touching his own cheek, which was still a bit wet.
Reply
Leave a comment