Let's have a chat, da? [China]

The war had been going on for close to three decades now, but for nations like Russia and China, thirty years could be compared to a blink of an eye. Ivan had already lived a long life full of difficulties and challenges, constantly thwarting attackers, and even Ivan considered China an ancient in some sense. The man held knowledge many would only be able to scratch the surface of in their lifetime, and for it, Ivan held great respect for the man before him. However, with such knowledge came stubbornness, and as far as Ivan was concern, he planned to put an end to it today.

Ivan gave China a closed eye smile, giggling softly at his remark. He would always enjoy the man’s sly remarks and teasing ploys. Similar to China’s culture and history, there always laid an underline mystery waiting to be solved. One day, he suspected China would turn on him, no matter their sometime too personal relation. They saw the world differently, and Ivan knew at the defeat of his enemies, he would have to turn to his few friends to make certain none had a knife pointed at his back. Ivan desperately hoped China would be a true friend, someone he could confide in, which occasionally did so, but hope would not make it so. “You’ve missed me then?” he asked, sweetly, his fingers threading together over his lap as he tilted his head at him with a teasing smile.

“I have not been far. I’ve been here,” he noted, his fingers slipping away from his lap to point at the bunker. He could feel the sweat dripping down the back of his neck, but it did nothing to destroy his features. He looked collected even in the heat.  His mind focused on a more important issue.  His men, many of his men were dying in this land.  It reminded him of his time in Afghanistan.  It seemed no matter the amount of troops and weapons he sent in, his people continued to die and he saw no change in the war.
 
His eyes turned a bit serious, darkening an inch as he leaned over the table, smile still in place. “Strangely, you have not been,” he stated.

For a moment, his anger disappeared at the blush that crossed the man’s face. China could be quite adorable when he was flustered by compliments. It was one of the many reasons Ivan enjoyed showering them upon him. He enjoyed the red in his face and the way the man would scold him in public if he ever attempted a display of affection. He did miss their moments in the past, the moments that were not showered in blood. He missed taking in a calm afternoon with his arm around the smaller nation. He missed whispering sweet nothings into his ear only to get batted away by his sleeve. He enjoyed China’s company and his thoughts. He could listen to the man’s old tales of legends for hours and silently watch him as he drew his paint brush against paper. He held such elegance, and if Ivan could he would put the man in a snow globe and carry him in his pocket wherever he went.

Nonetheless, they were at war, and if Ivan hoped to win, they could not focus on the sweet moments. As he went on to explain, he could feel his anger returning yet it never showed on his ever smiling face. Ah, there was the stubborn China he knew the man to be. It was the balancing game they played, both powerful nations hoping for the same thing, yet with different views on how to achieve it. China believed himself the leader, but it was not China who had pushed into Europe. It was not China who had locked a stronghold in South America. It was not China who faced the American brat in the dessert. It was Russia. The war might had started between Israel and Iran, but the true leaders behind the fight were Russia and America. It would be quite intelligent of China to realize this fact sooner rather than later. “Da, we all have our place,” he agreed sweetly, leaving out the part that China’s place was underneath him.

He listened to the excuse finding it flimsy and hardly worth his time. It could almost be seen as disrespectful. China must think so little of him. He caught sight of him taking his hat, and his quick stand to leave, with his second pitiable excuse. Ivan giggled. He could not help himself. China could not be so foolish to believe their conversation had ended. Oh no, they were just beginning!

He stood himself, easily traversing the distance around the table and grabbing the man’s arm tightly. He gave him another closed eye smiles. “We are in the middle of our chat,” he squeezed his arm tighter, “I had not consider you one for impoliteness.” He jerked his arm, forcing the smaller man to face him. “How many men do you have in Iraq?” he asked, waiting for a moment before answering it himself, “Far less than me. To be exact, sixty percent less than me. Yet…” He tapped his finger of his free hand against his chin, as if in thought, “You have a much larger army at home than I.” His smile turned into a straight line, as his violet eyes locked to his brown ones, “We will not win this war if you continue down this selfish path, comrade.”

China might have held an aura of mystery around his form, but Ivan knew this book and had experience reading it before. He had stared into those large brown eyes for so many years he knew every subtle twitch and change about them. He knew how they would subtly change different shades in different light, he knew how they would grow wide at the sight of something cute, and most importantly, he knew how they would give off a slight twitch when China was not pleased. It had become a familiar look near the Sino-Soviet Split almost a century ago, and it appeared it had returned again.

He ignored the irritation on the Chinese man’s features. As far as Ivan was concern, the man had no logical reasons to be upset. They were having a simple friendly discussion on how obviously China does not put enough initiative into their friendship. However, if he continued to disregard Ivan’s “requests” it would certainly turned to a less than friendly topic. He felt the smaller man’s teasing fingers on his jacket, yet his eyes stayed locked on his, waiting for his response. He had noticed when China felt trapped in his own hypocrisy he would attempt to distract him, and while occasionally it worked, Ivan had no mood for it today. The sun felt hot, his men were tired and dying, and his face was partially covered in sand or dirt. No, not today. If he took out his frustrations, it would be in blood of the Allegiance. He would not be held captive by the adorably cute nervous smiles or soft features of the man in front of him. So cute, almost like a sunflower.

He inwardly shook the thought from his head as the man responded, his own features still stern in response. The tone in his voice made it evident that China had no interest in listening, only confirmed by his next statement and accusation. He kept his hold on his arm, even at the mention of the telephone. Ivan had forgotten to inform China’s Boss…merely a simple mistake, yet such a simple mistake did not need to be solved immediately, especially not before they solved the current predicament they found themselves in.

He took a step closer, his free hand moving to China’s waist. He always enjoyed being taller than China. When he was small, he hoped to be as tall and now he surpassed him. A student must outgrow their teacher. The soft touches made his chest warm with a different sense of heat, his unmoving heart reacting in a strange way, but he focused elsewhere. “Independent, you say? Am I not speaking with you now, Yao?” he said in a childish hurt way, even though his name held a dark bite to it on his lips. He finally let go of his arm, and his own hand moved to China’s cheek, cupping it softly, almost like a gentle lover. “We are friends,” he stated softly, his fingers moving and threading into his hair. Without warning, he grabbed it tightly and jerked his hair back, forcing China’s chin in the air as he looked down upon him with a blank face, “Friends must work together. My people fight in Europe, the Middle East, Japan, and South America. I have supplied millions of dollars’ worth of weapons to each area to each of our friends. Where are you….friend?” he said darkly.

His violet eyes narrowed, his face close to China, but within a blink of an eye, Ivan let go of him. He pulled back with a smile on his face and a cellphone in his hand. China’s cellphone. “Let’s not fight, Yao. I do not like when we fight,” he said sweetly before turning to his soldier, speaking a quick order in Russian. He handed the phone off to the man, who left with it.

Ivan did not have many friends. He did not understand the reason behind it. He always considered himself a reasonable and friendly person. He tried so hard to be friendly with others, even in his younger years. He would offer a thoughtful hand or a nice smile to all the larger nations, and there response was to beat him up and take his capitol. It had not been nice at all. Even as he grew stronger, he had difficulties making friends. He often became depressed, especially right after the Cold War when all of his friends had ran away from his warm and loving home. China had been one of the few to return in his life, to give him company and support. China was certainly his friend, and occasionally more. If only China would listen.

He never wished to lose China as a friend, as he had in the middle of the Cold War, and he felt their current relationship in the balance. They had to work together. How did he not see this? They could not win if they fought against each other. He knew China was not pleased with him at the moment, but Ivan had to make his point clear and if locking the man in this bunker in the middle of the dessert until he came to the correct answer was the only way to accomplish it, he was happy to oblige.

His first statement reminded him he must be speaking to a wall, for every response seemed to be the same no matter how tiredly he attempted to blow through it. Before he responded, however, China had continued, and a small genuine smile appeared on his lips. The heavy weight on his shoulder seemed to have lessen with the simple statement, relief coming through his form. He knew it was not a commitment, but they were moving in the right direction.

He leaned forward, tipping the man’s chin up, and kissed him softly on the lips. “It all that I am asking,” he whispered, “Our way is best for the world, and while I wish I could accomplish it on my own, I cannot.”

He held an obsession with China that could be compared to a small boy that had stumbled across a bird. The bird was beautiful, elegant, and it could soar through the skies as only man could dream. It captures ones’ thoughts and dreams and brings life to possibilities. You want to capture it, and so while it sleeps, you quickly reach out your hands and grab it. Holding it firmly in your grip, hoping that its elegance might somehow seep into you, and if it doesn’t, you hope to hold the bird forever so only you can see its beauty. Until you squeeze so tightly…the bird’s neck breaks. Ivan experienced such troubles before, especially with little animals he came across. When he was rejected by a hamster in his youth, he finally determined he did not do so well with animals. Yet staring at China often reminded him of those cute little birds in spring and their dead skeletons that littered around his bird pool. He wanted to hold onto China, but the harder he held the harder China attempted to push away.

He certainly did not trust China. He would be a fool to do so. Ivan was younger than China by many many years, and while the man had always captivated him since his youth, he knew how dangerous he could be. The man ruled multiple empires and had no qualms entering wars. China could easily be persuaded with cuteness these days, but underneath it, he was still the China who had put fear into many of the Asian countries, who had a large home and conquered multiple of his brothers and sisters. No, there would never be trust. It held too much danger, yet if only he could capture his little bird for himself.

Ivan always found the red blush across the man’s face adorable. It could make him forget for an instant, the war, the strife, the challenges, even the true nature of the man before him. He could lose himself in it. He supposed it was the reason he often kissed China, even when he knew the man would get annoyed. He enjoyed his blush. He loved the fluster way he would always wipe it away as if it had never happened. Yes, his China. His China.

A genuine smile slipped onto his face, the frustration lines on his features disappearing as the man finally agreed to what he asked for. It was not the amount Ivan wanted, but it was a start, and he knew he could push China for more in six months and more after that. He only needed to keep chipping at his Great Wall until it finally collapsed. “I knew you would see eventually,” he giggled, “I would find your stubbornness obnoxious if it were not so compelling.” He mentioned and tilted his head lower, his breath trailing along the shorter man’s cheek as it moved towards his ear. “Thank you,” he whispered against it, not touching him. He lingered there for a moment before stepping away.

“We must discuss how to handle the Allegiance forces in the Middle East and the World, and particularly what to do with….Japan,” he noted, “But you wish to make a phone call.” He smiled childishly as he reached into his own pocket and pulled out his own cell phone. He handed it to the man in front of him, though obviously China would be making the call in front of him.

Ivan had known China long enough to know his body yearned for him. His temper and tantrums at each one of Ivan’s touches were merely his way of brushing him off and dismissing him as the child he pretended to see. Yet Ivan knew China’s body. He had studied it for years like an art piece in a museum. He knew how twitched and arched. He knew the sounds he made in pleasure and the sharp grip of his nails in his back. He smiled softly as he caught how his head naturally tilted away, giving him full access to his neck. China cared for him in his own way, just as Ivan cared for China. He was one of his very few friends, even if China might snort at the title, Ivan knew it was true, and it made his chest fill a bit lighter at the reminder.

Ivan already had his strategy for the Middle East, it merely required more men to accomplish it to put the Allegiance on the Defense rather than the offense. He already had in place a flight plan to destroy Saudi Arabia oil fields, but to do so successfully would mean the Allegiance would have to be unaware or at least distracted from the air. It would require them to push and push hard on the front line. With China’s additional men, he planned to do just that.

He eyes followed China’s features as he mentioned his brother’s name. He greatly disliked Japan. The small nation had an air of unentitled arrogance. He had fought with Japan multiple times before the war and held little trust for him during peace time. Japan was selfish in the worse of ways. He did not realize he was selfish. He knew China loved his brother out of a strange family connection, but the boy did not deserve it. “Da, we will need to take action to weaken him,” he smiled, keeping his tone light.

His cellphone was basically ripped from his hands. He found himself giggling at the action. He might have taken it personally, but China always pushed him away, always tried to keep him at arm’s length. Thankfully, Ivan’s arms were much longer than China’s. He listened to the Chinese. He was not fluent in the language, but he knew a few words to gather a general idea of a conversation. It would have been harder to stalk China in a Panda Suit if he knew no Chinese at all.

He pouted for the briefest of moments as he hung up the phone. “Hostage?” he asked, “The word is a little over dramatic, da?” He stepped forward, his smile returning as he reached out and brushed his stray bang behind his ear. “You always like when I take control. You practically scream it,” he chuckled and traced his finger along his jaw, before plucking the phone back out of his hand.

At least he made the request for his men. China had rarely ever gone against an agreement.