Re: The Companion [8.10/?]
anonymous
May 28 2010, 18:13:35 UTC
"Hey, c'mon buddy. There's no need to get so worked up. I get it, you don't want me watching to news anymore." America pat the bed next to him. Russia hauled himself up next to him and slung an arm over his shoulders, pulling them together, their heads lightly pressed against one another's.
"Do you know what you have, America?" Russia's free hand went to America's chest, giving it a few hearty thumps. "You have a good heart."
America gave a bashful nod of thanks, his heart beating back against Russia's touch.
"But it is also so soft," Russia continued, a wistful breath intertwining with his words. "It cannot handle too much all at once. That is why you cannot watch the news with me."
America shifted slightly, leaning further against Russia. He was surprisingly warm. America had always expected him to emanate a certain iciness in conjunction with the fierce winters of his land, but he felt the same as any other body, giving off a comfortable bit of warmth that was particularly pleasing against America's bare skin.
"I don't think my heart's all that bad," America said, more to keep Russia with him than anything. He'd gone so long without such delicate and comforting touch his body craved it more than anything. More than any kind of information or freedom, he wanted tender affection.
"I never said having a soft heart was bad. Soft hearts are kind and loving, they hold an endless forgiveness. But they are quick to cry and become overwhelmed easily. Too much at once and they will break. You don't want that to happen, do you?"
"Well, no, not really."
"And that is why I must protect you! You must trust that if anything bad were to happen, I would tell you. I do not want you to become concerned with minor inconveniences and trivialities. If anything important happens, you will be the first to know, I promise."
America listened carefully to Russia's speech. He was feeling a tad on the overwhelmed side as of late. Maybe Russia really did know what was best, he was older and more experienced in the ways of the world after all. Yes, America decided, he'd leave everything to Russia for now.
"Right, well, I think I should probably get dressed then." America shrugged Russia's arm off. "You go watch the news and tell me if it's anything I should know about." It wasn't that America thought Russia really would tell him anything, but he really did want to put some proper clothes on to ward off the cold of the house.
"Of course," Russia agreed, a cheered lilt coating his words. "I am sure it is nothing. Oh, and─" he stammered slightly, "─I apologize for being so rough. It was not my intention to act as such." His head lowered for a moment in shame.
"No problem. It was my bad, I shouldn't have snuck up on you like that."
"That's right," Russia chided playfully before standing. "I hope you will not try again."
"Wouldn't dream of it, buddy." America smiled, his nerves at ease. He knew he wasn't the slightest bit at fault for Russia's erratic behavior, but he didn't mind fudging the truth to get Russia back into working order. He had grown to rather like, or at least tolerate, Russia's company when he was of sound mind.
When they had played chess together, for instance. Russia had been calm and composed, not at all the threatening and unapproachable figure he was used to, the one that watched him with frigid, unblinking eyes every time they came into contact. Eyes that seemed to be moving closer and closer...
Russia's lips met America’s cheek, pressing softly. Not a kiss, but a touch. Like he had taken a hand and placed it on America's flesh, not pushing nor prying, not anything. A simple act of skin against skin. A finger traced along America's temple, tucking a stray lock of golden hair behind his ear. America straightened up and looked to Russia, almost as if expecting an explanation.
"Well, off I go now." Russia bent at the waist and wrapped his arms around America. Before he could break the embrace, America's arms slipped around him as well, returning the hug with his trademark gusto, hands patting down Russia's sides with a certain familiarity.
"Do you know what you have, America?" Russia's free hand went to America's chest, giving it a few hearty thumps. "You have a good heart."
America gave a bashful nod of thanks, his heart beating back against Russia's touch.
"But it is also so soft," Russia continued, a wistful breath intertwining with his words. "It cannot handle too much all at once. That is why you cannot watch the news with me."
America shifted slightly, leaning further against Russia. He was surprisingly warm. America had always expected him to emanate a certain iciness in conjunction with the fierce winters of his land, but he felt the same as any other body, giving off a comfortable bit of warmth that was particularly pleasing against America's bare skin.
"I don't think my heart's all that bad," America said, more to keep Russia with him than anything. He'd gone so long without such delicate and comforting touch his body craved it more than anything. More than any kind of information or freedom, he wanted tender affection.
"I never said having a soft heart was bad. Soft hearts are kind and loving, they hold an endless forgiveness. But they are quick to cry and become overwhelmed easily. Too much at once and they will break. You don't want that to happen, do you?"
"Well, no, not really."
"And that is why I must protect you! You must trust that if anything bad were to happen, I would tell you. I do not want you to become concerned with minor inconveniences and trivialities. If anything important happens, you will be the first to know, I promise."
America listened carefully to Russia's speech. He was feeling a tad on the overwhelmed side as of late. Maybe Russia really did know what was best, he was older and more experienced in the ways of the world after all. Yes, America decided, he'd leave everything to Russia for now.
"Right, well, I think I should probably get dressed then." America shrugged Russia's arm off. "You go watch the news and tell me if it's anything I should know about." It wasn't that America thought Russia really would tell him anything, but he really did want to put some proper clothes on to ward off the cold of the house.
"Of course," Russia agreed, a cheered lilt coating his words. "I am sure it is nothing. Oh, and─" he stammered slightly, "─I apologize for being so rough. It was not my intention to act as such." His head lowered for a moment in shame.
"No problem. It was my bad, I shouldn't have snuck up on you like that."
"That's right," Russia chided playfully before standing. "I hope you will not try again."
"Wouldn't dream of it, buddy." America smiled, his nerves at ease. He knew he wasn't the slightest bit at fault for Russia's erratic behavior, but he didn't mind fudging the truth to get Russia back into working order. He had grown to rather like, or at least tolerate, Russia's company when he was of sound mind.
When they had played chess together, for instance. Russia had been calm and composed, not at all the threatening and unapproachable figure he was used to, the one that watched him with frigid, unblinking eyes every time they came into contact. Eyes that seemed to be moving closer and closer...
Russia's lips met America’s cheek, pressing softly. Not a kiss, but a touch. Like he had taken a hand and placed it on America's flesh, not pushing nor prying, not anything. A simple act of skin against skin. A finger traced along America's temple, tucking a stray lock of golden hair behind his ear. America straightened up and looked to Russia, almost as if expecting an explanation.
"Well, off I go now." Russia bent at the waist and wrapped his arms around America. Before he could break the embrace, America's arms slipped around him as well, returning the hug with his trademark gusto, hands patting down Russia's sides with a certain familiarity.
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