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Russia spoke quietly into his phone, wanting so badly to be with the person on the other end.
“Can I see you when I get back?”
Currently, the hulking nation was wearing his normal business suit and scarf, irritable and sweltering in the Italian summer heat. He eyed a few nations as they made their way back into the meeting room.
He disliked having to attend long conferences in general, but these meetings were especially gruesome considering only European nations (plus Eurasian ones like him and Turkey) were allowed attendance.
That of course meant there was no chance at all for him to see his favorite person Wang Yao, more formally known as the embodiment of the People’s Republic of China, more informally known as Russia’s lover and long-term boyfriend.
“Ivan, didn’t you just arrive?” Yao asked on the other end, voice incredulous. “How do you already want to leave? You’re in Italy! Most people would enjoy a fully paid trip there, you know.”
The Russian frowned, explaining how the meeting was already off to a bad start considering Italy—the host nation—was running late and still wasn’t here.
Add on to the fact that the AC in the building was broken, so they had to be in a stuffy meeting room in stuffy business suits in uncomfortable 32 Celsius weather.
“Well, the meetings should only last for the weekend, right? I don’t have to be anywhere until next Wednesday, so we can spend a few days together once you get back,” Yao offered as a consolation prize.
“But I want to see you now.”
“You can survive a weekend without me,” Yao said with a snort, though there was a hint of fondness to his words. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll make you whatever you want when you get back, ok? And we can do something fun together. Until then, at least try to be on your best behavior and pay attention!”
Ivan continued to pout, but knew that was probably the best reward he was going to get considering the circumstances.
“Ok. I’ll try for you,” he answered with a dramatic sigh. “I’ll see you then, Yao-Yao! I love you.”
“Text me what dishes you want so I can prepare the ingredients beforehand.”
Ivan frowned.
He knew Yao heard him. They had been together for about two years now, shared their bodies and bathed together, even woken up to puke from long nights of drinking together, yet his lover was so adamant about not overusing the ‘L’ word.
“It loses its meaning if I use it so flippantly,” Yao would always say.
Ivan didn’t like it.
He stayed on the phone, not caring that technically their 15 minute water break was over.
A few nations attempted to call him inside, but a biting glare sent them scurrying back into the meeting room.
“Can you make pelmeni’s*? But with char siu bao* filling? Is that possible?”
“And also say you love me,” he wanted to add.
“Pelmeni’s…?” Yao hummed. “Yeah, I think so. Anything else?”
Ivan’s tone was flat, like he was obviously displeased. “I’ll let you know.”
“Ok. Just text me. And Ivan?”
“Hm?” He stared out the window.
“… I love you, too.”
Ivan blinked, his chest suddenly filling to the brim with warmth. He looked at his phone with big dramatic eyes.
Oh, how he wanted to just hug and kiss Yao this very instant!
“Oh, Yao, I—”
Before Ivan could continue his long love panegyric, he was interrupted by Northern Italy crashing through the entrance, cheeks red and breathing heavily like he had just run a marathon.
Muttering winded apologies under his breath, Italy slammed open the meeting room doors and rushed inside.
Russia could hear Germany’s yelling from here.
“—What was that?”
“Ah. Just Italy. He finally arrived.”
“Well, I better not keep you then. Remember: best behavior! I really have to go now, too. I think someone’s knocking on the door.”
Ivan raised a concerned brow. “Who?”
“Aiyah, I’m coming!” Yao yelled loudly. Ivan could hear him moving through his house and crumpling what sounded like paper. “Hong Kong or Macau probably got locked out again. Anyway I’ll see you later, Ivan. Best behavior!”
He hung up. Ivan stared at his phone a few more moments before he went back in the meeting room with a listless sigh.
He just wanted this weekend to be over.
“—can’t believe how irresponsible you are, coming in this late. We’re in your home country, you know! At least have the common decency to be here on time and not an hour after,” Germany tiraded to a crying Veneziano.
Russia slowly made his way to his seat, watching the exchange with an amused smile.
“But Grandpa Rome really was here, Germany! He visited me and Romano last night and said he had some unfinished business, which I think means he just wanted to say ‘ciao’ before he has some sex and food and goes drinking! Please forgive me, Germany! Please, please, please, please—”
“Ah! Don’t cry on mein suit, Italy!
The meeting began a few moments later.
Truth be told, Russia was zoning in and out as Germany talked and talked. If all they were going to discuss was matters concerning the European Union, why did Russia even need to be here?
Really the only thing he was actually paying attention to was messages from his boss and Italy loudly whispering to his neighbors about seeing the old Roman Empire.
Next to Italy, England rolled his eyes.
“What utter nonsense that is. There’s no way Rome could just come back from the dead unexpectedly because of some unfinished business. That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Oh, and Captain Hook taking you out and getting you drunk off your ass makes any more sense?” France whispered without missing a beat, prodding at England with the tip of his pen.
“Poke me again and I’ll take that pen and shove it so far up your arse—”
“—But it is true, England!” Italy exclaimed at a normal level. “Grandpa Rome said he had some unfinished business with an old lover and wanted to see them! I swear!”
“Oh? An old lover?” France answered, fully interested now. “Who on Earth could that be?”
“He might as well go to Egypt and hump one of the Great Pyramids if he thinks an old shag is still gonna be around,” England grumbled. “France I swear if you poke me one more time—”
Italy shrugged, doodling right on the table without a care in the world.
“I don’t know, but Grandpa Rome said he couldn’t be late because he had to go to China for some reason! Exciting, right?”
At that moment, a few nations shivered as an icy chill suddenly enveloped the room, raising goosebumps along their skin.
“… I’m so jealous,” Italy continued, happily unaware. “Mr. China always makes the best food! Oh. But not as good as pasta!”
The room filled with an awkward silence as the sound of Russia’s chair scraping against hardwood echoed.
Everyone stared uneasily at the tall country, who was standing up with an eerie smile and a dark aura pulsating around him.
Germany looked dumbfounded at the unexpected interruption and half of the room looked just about ready to pass out.
Latvia did, in fact, pass out.
“I am leaving.”
Only a few moments later, Russia was gone. Most of the room was still seated and quiet, trying to process exactly what the hell just happened.
Finally Germany broke the silence. He pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Let’s… let’s take lunch.”
Russia had walked straight to his hotel, shoved his things into his suitcase, and headed to the airport.
Now, he was on a flight to Beijing. One way.
He couldn’t describe these funny feelings in his chest.
They were the complete opposite of the warm butterflies he got when he was near Yao. Probably something akin to what he felt whenever America spoke or was in the same room as him, but ten-times worse.
Yes.
He was going to throttle the Roman Empire. Who the hell cared if the old nation was already dead? He would kill the Italian brother’s grandfather over and over if his ‘unfinished business’ involved some form of perversion with Ivan’s lover.
He looked down at his phone.
The home and lock screen was a photo of him at the zoo with Yao, taken right in front of the panda exhibits. Both nations had bright smiles on their faces and it had been one of those rare times where Yao reached for his hand first.
Ivan closed his eyes.
He wasn’t an idiot. He knew China and the Roman Empire had some form of love affair back in the days of the Silk Road, trading goods and sharing bodies as the East met the West.
Secretly, he envied Rome for having seen and loved a more carefree, teenage-minded China that he himself would never get to see.
But that was then.
And this was now.
And now, Yao loved Ivan. And Ivan loved Yao.
While Ivan was sure Yao would never break the trust they had built between them, he was secretly worried.
Insecure.
If Rome was anything like the Italy brothers, he was warm and fun and generally loved by everyone. Strong and powerful. But he must have been more mature on that note, right?
One didn’t just stay child-minded after having lived and conquered for so long, even Ivan could admit that. China was sure to have appreciated that in his hey-day.
He stared at his lock screen again.
After a few more moments, he shut off his phone and pocketed it close to his heart.
Eventually, he drifted off to the rumbling plane engine as he made his long journey to Beijing.
Ivan sincerely wished he had changed out of his stuffy business suit before taking that flight. If he thought Italy was bad, afternoons in China were hell on Earth.
After picking up his belongings and going through security, he rushed to the bathroom to change.
He found a more remote spot outside of the bathrooms to call Yao, ignoring the multitude of stares he received from Chinese citizens for being so tall and so white.
He speed-dialed Yao. No one picked up.
He called again. Nothing.
With an irritated click of his tongue, Ivan called yet again. This time someone did pick up and Ivan felt his blood boil.
“ Ciao, ciao, ciao! You’ve reached the phone of Wang Yao, Yao, Yao!” A bright voice with an Italian accent answered. “Yao’s a bit busy in the… kitchen … right now, but I can take a message! Pronto!”
Ivan’s eyebrows furrowed.
Why did he say kitchen like that, like he was lying? Why didn’t Yao pick up the phone?
He cut out the formalities.
“If you are doing something to Yao, you’re a dead man,” he hissed, his Russian accent coming out full-throttle. “I will launch you back off the face of Earth and this time, I will make your grandkids watch—”
“—Woah, woah, woah! Is this Wang’s new beau? Ciao, this is— Oh! hey! There you are!” Ivan heard a muffled voice in the background, obviously belonging to Yao. “Some violent Russian guy wants to talk, Wang-Wang—”
Ivan hung up.
In record time, he booked a taxi, speaking fluent Mandarin to the driver as he told him to hoof it to the exact location of Yao’s home on the outskirts of Beijing. He ignored the multitude of calls and text messages he received as they zoomed through the highway.
Finally, he arrived.
And waiting right outside on Yao’s porch, a tall brunette with chiseled features and sun-kissed skin, wearing a tight-fitting airport shirt that said “I ♡ China” in the front. He could almost snarl at the print.
“Ah, there he is!” The Roman Empire chirped. He gave Ivan a good up-and-down and whistled. “Damn, you are tall!” He reached out a friendly hand.
Ivan ignored it. “Where’s Yao?” He demanded.
Pink dusted the Roman Empire’s cheeks and he snickered under his breath.
“Oh, Wang-Wang—I mean. Yao. No need to glare, sí? Is preoccupied inside. He told me to tell you not to go in.”
Ignoring Rome and holding himself back from punching him, Ivan marched inside and surveyed the kitchen, noting two dirty dishes on the kitchen table along with a half-eaten cake in the shape of a heart. He gritted his teeth.
“Yao…? Yao, where are you?” Ivan called out.
He called a few more times, but instead of his sweet Yao, he heard the front door open, followed by an annoying whistling of Funiculì, Funiculà.
“You know, I’m surprised Yao settled on someone so young. And high-strung. And frankly, kinda clingy. Relax! Yao is just upstairs.”
Ivan narrowed his eyes at Rome and clenched his fists to his sides.
“… So. Did you two do anything?”
“Eh, besides eating some cake and Yao letting me stay the night, not really,” Rome answered nonchalantly. “You don’t need to look so jealous, big guy. Ok? Nothing happened.”
“Why are you even here?” Ivan spat. “And don’t think I’m not aware of your history together.”
Rome whistled nervously. “Oh, boy… Well. Alright, here’s the thing. For some reason, I magically appeared in my adorable grandson’s house, alive and well yesterday morning. Don’t know how or why, but I did.”
“Ok…?”
“And so! I decided, why not do stuff while I’m allowed to be alive again? You know, eat some food, do some day-drinking, have some sex…”
Ivan glared bullets into Rome’s head.
“Not with Yao,” Rome quickly clarified. “Although part of me did come here for old time’s sake hoping he would be willing to give me a blow j—”
Ivan’s fist collided with Rome’s cheek and the deceased empire fell to the floor with a loud oomph. He rolled up the sleeves of his light sweater, preparing for a brawl.
“Ok, ok!” Rome raised his hands in defeat as he rose from the ground. “I deserved that! But c’mon, wouldn’t you? You probably know as well as I do that Yao has a magic mouth—”
Ivan punched him again, this time with his opposite fist so both sides would match.
“Alright, alright! I deserved that, too!”
“I will kill you—”
“—But look! I misunderstood!”
Ivan kept his fists raised, but silently jutted his chin out, allowing the older nation to speak.
“I didn’t realize you two were in an actual relationship!”
Ivan blinked. “… Why wouldn’t we be?”
“I just didn’t think you were actually able to pull it off!” Rome laughed, but not before messaging his cheek. “Damn, that hurt. You have a pretty good left hook…”
Growing quiet, Rome walked up to a nearby table and pulled a framed photo off it, a melancholic look in his eyes.
Ivan craned his neck to see, finally realizing it was a photo of him and Yao at the zoo. The same one he used as his home and Lock Screen.
“He really loves you, you know?” Rome perked up. “In all my years of life, no one’s ever been able to catch that elusive bird. But somehow you snagged his heart and brought him down to Earth. Kudos, my friend! That truly is a rare feat!”
Ever-so-gradually, Ivan lowered his fists. “… What exactly do you mean by that?”
“I mean… you know. ”
“No.” Ivan crossed his arms. “I do not.”
Rome’s face was incredulous. “You mean you really don’t know?”
Nothing.
“Wow, and so young too!” Rome continued with a hearty laugh. “You don’t know that you’re the only person Yao’s ever been in a real relationship with!”
Ivan tilted his head in confusion. “What about you two?”
“Oh, I mean. We slept together. A lot. Like a lot, a l—”
“—Ok, I got the picture,” Ivan huffed, his frown returning.
“—Well, I offered Yao time and time again to be in a relationship. He was the only one. I even bought him the best glass jars and Western goodies a guy could get back in the day because… well, because I loved him! But he always said no. ‘I’m not privy to relationships outside the realms of sex, Roma,’ he always say.”
Ivan casted his eyes back to the framed photo of the two of them.
“… That does not sound like Yao I know.”
“Well, believe it or not, our sly little minx has quite the charm and grace to him. Tons of people threw themselves at his feet, wanting to make them his. But they never could…” Rome looked away. “… Not even me.”
Ivan watched with a cautious eye as Rome took a seat on Yao’s small sofa, rubbing a calloused finger on the surface.
Ivan almost felt bad for him.
“… Where is Yao?” Ivan asked slowly, more calmly.
Rome laughed as he pulled up a magazine. “So about that! I bought a super delicious-looking cake from a Western grocery store this morning to thank Yao for letting me stay the night, but I didn’t know it was chock full of milk and sweet cheese!”
Ivan’s face fell before his eyebrows furrowed in anger.
“Yao is lactose intolerant, you idiot!”
“Hey, give a guy a break! I didn’t know what lactose was until Yao locked himself in the bathroom and screamed not to go in!”
Clicking his teeth, Ivan ran into Yao’s bedroom.
“Yao?” He paused by the bathroom door. “Yao, are you there?”
“Don’t come in!” Yao moaned, his voice muffled by the door.
Ivan felt a pang of sympathy for his lover. It sounded like hell in there. He attempted to jiggle the handle.
“Yao, everyone shits, it’s fine—”
“—Ivan, I swear if you come in, you’re not touching me for three months!” Yao let out another pained moan.
Ivan frowned. Quickly, he left Yao’s bedroom to retrieve some medicine from the cabinet and a bottle of water. He even boiled water to get started on some of Yao’s favorite soup he learned to make perfectly, despite being somewhat of a poor cook.
He paused by Yao’s incense cabinet, knowing those and a box of matches wouldn’t hurt either.
“You are a trooper,” Rome rooted from the couch.
Ivan cursed him out in Russian before he disappeared back upstairs, arms full.
Carefully, he placed the items by the door. He knocked on the door again.
“Yao? Are you doing ok? I put some items by the door for you when you’re done. And I’m going to make that porridge you like, ok?”
A few moments later, Ivan heard Yao on the other side.
“… Ok. Thank you, Ivan.”
“You’re welcome. Let me know if you need anything else.”
Yao managed a laugh. “You can throttle Rome if he’s still here.”
Ivan chuckled, his eyes crinkling as they shared the awkwardly tender moment through the door. “Just for you, I will kick him off face of Earth and make sure his grandkids watch.”
Yao managed another laugh, but groaned immediately after. “Just make sure I’m there so I can watch too…”
“Of course, lyubimaya moya*. Anything else?”
“… No, not really. But Ivan?”
“Da?”
“I love you. Very very much. Thank you.”
Ivan’s chest warmed. “…I love you too, Yao.”
A little over 20 minutes later, Yao finally came downstairs with his hair down and in fresh clothes, gulping down the last of the water before exhaling a sigh of relief.
He paused at the kitchen doorway, an eyebrow raised.
At the table, Rome and Russia sat across from each other, finishing the last of the lactose cake.
“It’s pretty good, right?”
Ivan slowly nodded while he chewed.
“… Yeah, it’s pretty good.”
“Oh! There is he,” Rome called to him. “Hey, so sorry again about the cake, Wang! I had no idea you couldn’t have milk. Or cheese. How do you even eat pasta?”
Ivan’s eyes followed Yao as he silently maneuvered through the kitchen and helped himself to a bowl of the congee. Ivan looked about ready to get up and check on how his lover was doing, but Yao raised a silent hand, signaling him to stay seated.
Ivan blinked in worry. Yao sent a loving smile his way in response.
Balancing his bowl in one hand, Yao promptly smacked Rome in the back of the head with his free one as he made his way to the table to sit next to Ivan.
“Yeah, I deserve that,” Rome conceded as he rubbed his head. “But your boyfriend liked the cake, so no food goes to waste! That’s a good thing… right?”
Yao blew on his congee and sent a small glare his ex’s way.
“You are so lucky I don’t just throw you out and ban you from all my airports so you’re forced to walk back to Italy.”
“Hey, just like the good ol’ days, huh?”
Ignoring him, Yao looked Ivan’s way and placed his hand on his thigh, giving it a small squeeze.
“It’s very good. Thank you, Ivan.”
“You’re welcome, Yao-Yao.”
Yao looked at his ex-lover. “So. Romulus.”
Both Ivan and Rome looked up in surprise at the former nation’s human name being called.
Rome lowered his fork before he could shovel more cake into his mouth. “Er, yes?”
“Any other unfinished business of yours?”
“Mmm, nah. Not really. Kinda just wanted to see you and check up before I have to go back.” Rome shrugged plainly. “Whenever that is…”
Silence filled Yao’s kitchen for a few tense moments, the two living nations watching as Rome’s eyes filled with memories and lips tinged with words unsaid.
“… I mean, unless of course you’d be willing to reconsider that whole blow job thing—”
Both Yao and Ivan glared at him.
“—But seeing you and catching up is good, too, of course! Ha ha… And you know? I just wanted to say you two look good with each other. Genuinely. You used to be so guarded about letting people in back in the day, Yao. Remember?”
Yao looked down at his congee, past memories reflected in amber.
“… I still am,” he defended weakly.
“Yeah, but it feels different now. You’re different.”
Yao remained silent.
Rome turned his attention to Ivan. “Y’know, I’m jealous of you.”
Ivan blinked.
“You got to have what I couldn’t. Do what I didn’t. And maybe I can blame that on the passages of time, or maybe something about myself that was lacking, but that was then. And this is now, sí?”
Ivan slowly nodded. “… Right.”
After letting out a small yawn and stretching his arms, Rome rose unceremoniously from the table to put his dish in the sink.
Facing the sink, he continued speaking, looking at neither Yao nor Ivan.
“Just take care of each other! From now on. Take it from me, when you’re a big and powerful nation with the world at your fingertips… it gets lonely at the top.”
The two weren’t quite sure to whom that last part was directed at.
Finally, Rome turned back around, hinting towards the door.
“Are you leaving?” Yao asked. “We’ll walk you.”
After clearing the table, the three slowly made their way to Yao’s exit. Rome reached for the doorknob, his jovial smile never leaving his face.
“I gotta see if I can get one more drink in me before I head back. Do something fun and all that! You wouldn’t mind if I waited on your porch for a taxi though, would you Wang?”
“Not at all. You’re free to wait inside if you’d like, Romulus. It’s very hot.”
The deceased empire looked back at the two nations standing together, a glimmer in his eyes.
“Nah, I’ll be alright. Thank you, Wang. It really was good seeing you again. And of course, it was nice to meet you too, Russia, even though you did punch me pretty hard. Twice. And threatened to kill me in front of my grandkids.”
Russia chose not to say anything, but after a few quiet moments, he slowly reached out his hand.
Rome stared at it before firmly shaking it with a grin.
“Ciao.”
After Rome left to wait on the porch, a peaceful silence filled China’s home. Washing the used dishes, Yao felt an aged melancholy fill and expand in his chest, like he had been unexpectedly thrown back in time only to return to a stagnant present.
Noticing the look in his lover’s eyes, Ivan stood behind him and gently rubbed his shoulders.
“Are you ok?”
Yao leaned back into Ivan and closed his eyes in thought, hands still immersed in the sudsy water. He slowly nodded.
“… Yeah. I will be.”
Ivan’s phone suddenly buzzed. He laid a chaste kiss atop Yao’s head before checking it.
“It’s from France,” Ivan called, looking at the long message from the nation of love.
“What does it say?”
He narrowed his eyes at the words as he read them aloud. “Apparently, when he and England went out for drinks two nights ago, they snuck into an Ancient Rome historical museum and England… cast a spell on one of the artifacts…? What? And that was probably the reason Rome came back.”
“Ah,” Yao said, trying to comprehend the message but coming up short. “I see…?”
“Wait, there’s more. He’s undoing the spell, so if ‘Rome is still with you, make sure he’s ready to go back.’ That’s what France says. Should I go get him from outside?”
“You can,” Yao said with a hum. “Though knowing him, he’s probably already gone.”
Ivan opened the front door and looked around.
There was no one there.
No trace of the once powerful nation that was just inside only a few moments ago, eating cake and reminiscing with a vivaciousness that he carried with him, even after death.
Ivan paused. On the porch step, a neatly folded shirt, its print glaring and bold.
“I ♡ China”