Lotus Fragrance
TItle: Lotus Fragrance
Characters/Pairings: Russia and China. Er...the pairing can go either way actually
Ratings: PG-13
Summary: Written for kink-meme where they requested China perform foot binding to Russia...I changed the prompt around a bit
A/N: Not happy with this but this isn't my priority *sigh* Sorry for the lame story.
A faint rustle of fabric, a soft shifting of the body beside him, gently prodded Russia awake from his deep slumber. To anyone else, such light movements on the break of dawn would have never disturbed them. However, the tundra, the taiga, the constant sensation of the frigid cold made the artic nation sensitive to the slightest lost of heat. His body craved the momentary reprieve his bed partners provided him. What warmth General Winter stole from him, he took from his lovers hot, supple bodies. So when China removed himself from the bed, taking his summer scented southern lands with him, Russia’s eyes fluttered open.
The weak morning light peaked through the paper screen windows of China’s bedroom, giving the traditionally styled room a fanciful touch. He watched the slender nation’s back with hooded eyes as China slipped into his cotton pants.
China felt the larger nation’s gaze burning into his back but refused to turn around as he shrugged into his Tang Zhuang jacket, “I’m sorry if I woke you so early in the morning. It is my habit to wake when the sun rises.”
“No, no do not worry, Comrade,” Russia said cheerfully, “I enjoy watching you dress. It has an, how do you say, erotic feel to it? Makes me want to tear it off you all the more.”
Russia laughed at the warning gaze China shot him. He sat up from the canopy bed, uncaring of his nudity as the silk blanket slipped off his body to gather around his waist. Violet eyes raked across China’s half-dressed form, admiring the rise and fall of the sun-kissed chest before finally settling on the feminine features of the Chinese nation. He smiled.
“You know, Yao, I am curious. For a man traditional such as yourself” Russia swept a hand indicating the room they slept in and China’s mode of clothes, “have you ever bound you’re foot?”
China paused for a moment, letting the Russian’s subtle insult pass him by, “I am not a woman.”
“You certainly can pass for one.”
Ignoring Russia’s baiting, China walked to the basin beside the bed and began washing his face. The larger nation laid on his side and sidled closer to where the smaller man was, “How is it a culturally advanced country such as yourself practiced such…barbaric acts? It is something I will never understand.”
“It’s no different from European women wearing corsets,” China mumbled through a towel, “It’s done for aesthetic beauty.”
Russia chuckled, “Do not fool yourself, old friend. I’ve seen bound foot unwrapped before. Such a grotesque thing cannot be called beautiful. Foot binding is nothing more than the submission of women.” He tugged on the corner of China’s shirt, “Something we’ll fix da?”
China slowly removed the cloth from his face and stared at Russia’s smiling face intently. Whether China agreed to it or not, it was not his place to judge his people’s actions. He would not stand by as an outsider condemned his culture based on Western standards. Methodically, slowly China placed the towel back down on the table. His hands fiddled with the cloth, watching his hands fold it into a perfect squared instead of meeting Russia’s eyes, “Shall I show you?”
Russia has since gotten up from the bed unclothed and was in the process of sliding his hands underneath China’s Tang Zhuang and pull him close to once again feel his heat when the question was asked. “Show me what?” he murmured against hair dark as the starless sky.
He turned in the larger man’s arms, slightly pushing him until he once again sat down on the edge of the bed. His knee resting on the mattress between Russia’s thigh, China the northerner’s nape, bringing him close for a simple, soft kiss. The moment the blond relaxed against his touch, China whispered against his lips, “Let me bind your feet…Ivan”
A shiver not caused by coldness ran down Russia’s spine but still he heard China’s request. “You are not suggesting I let you break my bones are you?”
“Of course not,” China nibbled Russia’s bottom lip before walking away to a cabinet to retrieve some strips of linen, “I’m simply going to show you the process. Maybe that’ll give you an insight to the…certain appeal of the lotus feet?”
“A pretty name cannot covering up its’ foulness, China,” Russia watched as the Chinese nation knelt on the floor in front of him.
“Of course not.” China meekly agreed.
Picking up one of Russia’s feet, he placed it in the water basin he used earlier to wash his face. Silence filled the room as Russia just continued to watch China cup a handful of water and pour it on the arch of his foot. Sunlight played and danced upon the porcelain face; with his eyes downcast, it only allowed Russia to admire the long, dark lashes casting shadows upon his cheeks.
He reached a hand out to tuck a strand of unbound hair behind China’s ear. Golden eyes smiled at him, “Mothers would let their daughters soak their feet in medicinal herb to numb the pain but since we’re not really binding you’re feet, such things aren’t needed.”
“After the soaking, the women would massage their feet in preparation,” China lifted Russia’s soaked foot and draped it across his knee, letting it press against his naked torso.
“For a man, you certainly know much about a womanly practice,” Russia hummed out, watching transfixed as the water trickled lower and lower down China’s chest.
China smiled beneath this lashes, unfolding the linen as he began to wrap it around the blonde’s foot, “It has been a part of me for almost a century. How could I not know?”
Round and round the strip went; from the heel of the foot to the tip. The tightness of the wrap a sharp contrast to China’s feather light touches. Finished with the faux-binding, China brought it to his lips and burning Russia with his golden eyes as he kissed the arch. The hand that wasn’t holding the binding together, slowly inched its’ way up the Russian’s leg. Eyes not once breaking away, China kisses followed the trail his hands left behind.
Just before his hand touched his inner thigh, China fell back, letting go of Russia’s leg altogether; the white linen coming undone and falling limply to the ground.
Tilting his head, China observed Russia curiously. “It seems it isn’t only my people who have foot fetishes,” China stared pointedly at the obvious bulge of the blanket covering the Russian’s arousal.
“I suppose,” Russia readily agreed. He grabbed China by his arms and flung him back in the depths of the bed with him lying on top of the Chinese nation, “but I think I need further convincing.”
A/n: Original kink-meme prompt:
I would like to see China binding Russia's feet in the traditional Chinese style. Seeing as Russia is fully grown and not a little kid, it would probably be a rather traumatic experience, so he's rewarded with sexytimes when it's done, because China gets off on his mutilated feet. China tops, please.
On that note, this story...I have no idea if it's Russia x China or China x Russia. I left it up in the air. Author doesn't know who tops either XD
Anyway when I was writing this, the setting was 1920s when Sun Yat Sen asked for foreign power to help defeat the warlords of Northern China. All Western powers ignored him except the Soviet. They provided the military aid Sun Yat Sen needed in order to perform the Northern Expedition. Er...I wanted to include that little bit of info in the story but then foot binding wouldn't have been mentioned at all XD. So yes, that's why relations are a tad bit tense between them and not lovey-dovey.
...I do tend to like mind games a bit too much damn it. Like I said...I do not like how this turned out. So bad. So so so bad.