I need a friend [Lithuania] [M]

Times had changed. Lithuania remembered when he would hum lightly to himself as he dusted and cleaned in Russia’s house. He’d make his own music then, but now as he lifted himself on his toes ever so slightly, he had a single earbud in his ear which softly played music—a piano station he’d found on the internet. Of course it wasn’t too loud because if someone needed him he didn’t want to miss them or have them think he didn’t hear or didn’t care. Yet he was glad that he’d done undisturbed thus far. In a house of so many people getting time to oneself was hard and Lithuania usually only found it when he was cleaning or when he came here on the pretense of reading.

The house seemed less heavy without Ivan, at least that’s what Lithuania perceived. Estonia and Latvia smiled and laughed easier, air came into the lungs with less constriction. He was happy to see them more relaxed and of course he too was a little on edge without having to worry about Russia and messing up, but for him he wasn’t breathing easier. He was actually worried about Ivan. Russia’s boss didn’t say it, but Toris knew. Russia hadn’t been meant to be gone this long and while the other Baltics weren’t discomforted and were enjoying the time they had to their leisure, not only did Lithuania continue to clean to keep the house presentable, but he had been preparing breakfast for Ivan every morning since he’d been meant to be back just in case he’d come in during the dark night. Of course he wasn’t in office or in his room as Toris checked every time he awoke.

Ivan could be terrifying, he could be cruel, but no one else in his house had seen him as Toris had. When they were younger, in battle against a matched foe, or heard his dreams. Toris had become rather enamored with sunflowers because of him. And he should have been back.

Toris laughed softly to himself and felt his face heat. What would everyone think if they knew he was worried about Ivan? He had defeated each of them, forced them back into his home, but they were safe weren’t they? Captive, but safe…and the smiles Ivan gave him…

Toris let out a flustered sigh and returned to dusting. He wanted to help make lunch and the sooner he finished the library, the sooner he felt he could do that. He always enjoyed preparing meals with company and even if he and the other Baltics were so different he relished learning more and more about them. They’d not spoken much before being brought back into Russia’s house, but they were all busy. At least that’s what Toris told himself.

Head filled with thought after thought and worry after worry, his stomach gurgled in anxiety and he was unaware he was being watched and then crept up on. He just kept cleaning the shelf until he heard a voice.

It wasn’t the voice, but the proximity of it that had Toris spinning around, free hand clutching over his heart. “I-Ivan,” he stammered, “you scared me. Not that you’re scary or that you meant to, of course you didn’t, that’s silly right? I mean,” he took a deep breath. “I didn’t hear you come in.” And that’s when he realized Ivan had said something else and blinked. Ivan was holding out flowers for him. Toris stared at them a moment before he placed the duster down and after wiping his hands off on his thighs—when had they gotten sweaty all of sudden—he took them. He knew he was blushing faintly and worrying his lip.


“For me,” he whispered and touched one of the colorful petals. “You got them for me? They’re beautiful.” He lifted them to his nose. They also smelled so nice. He felt his heart lift and he gave Ivan a dazzling smile before it disappeared.

“Mr. Russia…I mean to say…your coat and scarf…” He gently placed the bouquet down on the table beside the books and began to straighten his coat and fix his scarf. This was how he discovered how stiffly Ivan was holding himself. “You came right in to give me flowers…but you are hurt?” He blinked in confusion. Why had he done such a thing? Was he in pain?

Toris could never stop the pace of his heart around Ivan, or at the very least it was rare. From the moment they had first met to now Russia had both terrified and intrigued him. While he had been unnerved at the little nation he’d met so long ago it was like a dream, even he could not deny that he’d left unaffected. He’d often thought of him with both unease, but interest. That a nation who had only spoken to him shortly wanted to be his friend? Even Poland had made fun of him then. Ivan had and was still an intricate puzzle. He had to be to like boring little Toris because Toris saw nothing special about himself.

He had brown hair where everyone around him had blonde and such beautiful and differing shades they were. He was the black sheep and yet the longest standing Baltic nation. He was shy, cautious, and somber. Who could even find him interesting? That he could make Russia so nervous, that he could make him blush? He didn’t understand it. Nor could he understand how he ever came to deserve the gift of being thought of so much that Ivan brought him flowers and such gifts.

Still they were beautiful and while Russia had a scarf to hide his cheeks, Lithuania had nothing. How the nation flustered him with his kindness and made him fear what he expected in return. Distrust? No. Yet nothing in Toris’s life had ever been given as simple gift. Yet Russia often did give him such tokens and words.

Maybe that is why he worried about him so. He had the gift of seeing lonesome Russia along with the cruel and powerful nation he could also be. Maybe that is what softened his heart and let him admit that even so long ago he’d been allured by the snowy nation.

Toris’s heart stopped when Ivan stiffened beneath his hands. Had he hurt him? Should he have asked for permission? Oh god…what if Ivan hadn’t wanted to be touched. He almost stepped back and dropped his hands as if burned, but then Russia relaxed. A sigh of relief and Toris made him presentable. Ah, yes the Russia he knew. Put together and imposing. Yet he was still hiding his face. Maybe it unnerved Lithuania a little…okay a lot. But then he spoke once more and Toris blinked.

He wanted to see his smile? Now his heart did a somersault under his ribs as he tried to search what he could of Ivan’s face. “You wanted to see me smile,” he tasted the words. “All you had to do was ask, Mr. Russia. Not that I don’t like the flowers, I-I do! Remember I told you I did? They’re beautiful and I’m honored you gave them to me.” He was beyond moved and grateful. “…I don’t get gifts often. And you thought of me…even when you were hurt...Thank you...really. Thank you.” He blushed deeper if such was possible.

Why did Ivan keep looking away? It made Lithuania nervous in a different way. He was being…shy. Toris of course worried about what Germany had done. Of course Ludwig would think he deserved it, was probably proud of himself, but Toris was discomforted that Ivan had been hurt and obviously badly enough that it’d delayed him returning.

He was caught up in such thoughts and watching Ivan fidget that he was surprised first when his wrist was touched. It sent an shock up his arm for its softness and at the feel of those powerful, bare fingers touching his bare skin.

How long it’d been since Ivan had touched him…

Then Lithuania saw Ivan’s blush right before his lips brushed his. Toris’s eyes widened, his breath stuttered, and he froze. Should he have kissed him back? It was sudden, he’d not been expecting it. He’d have done it if he stayed longer. God, please don’t let Ivan be mad.

Lips parted to explain why he’d not kissed him back because he needed to and he would not ask about the blush. Not tell him how beautiful it was. Yet once more Ivan took his air and speech.

Bathe with him?

Did he want Toris to wash him? He must have been so stiff. Or maybe it would lead to some punishment because he’d not kissed him back. Or maybe it would lead to more kisses and touching? Not that Toris was thinking about that because of the whisper it was requested in. And it had been a request. Should Toris say no? Did he want to? What would happen if he did?

He met Russia’s violet eyes. “Yes,” and how easy that single word graced his lips in a timid whisper as if he was ashamed to admit that he suddenly very much wanted that.

Toris remembered the moment he and Russia had first met as well. He remembered the child with the blood-stained coat and the way his dog had growled and barked at him. All that bloodshed and this nation was in the middle of it. It was easy to see he was not the conqueror but the conquered and yet Toris had known. Toris had seen his power, the strength of his will. He would become a strong country and if Lithuania feared of anything it was of being oppressed like the nation he'd come know as Ivan. He was so young and he'd seen so much. Toris had chosen his path, Ivan had not. Russia had survived and now he was intimidating and often times cruel, but he was still that small nation. Wasn't he?

Yet even so, Lithuania knew fear. Fear of the child so hurt, but sympathy because he too had been there before. Fear of harming him further but fear of how tightly the nation could cling. The truth was he cared deeply for Ivan and in his own heart terror collided with something else. Russia could doubt the stars and the skies, but for Toris there was no doubt that he felt for Ivan beyond all the fright.

Ivan could be so gentle, could smile so sweet. Lithuania found himself returning the grin albeit demurely. Blood was going to permanently stain his cheeks he was sure. His heartbeat was never going to return to normal either if it didn't stop dancing at Ivan's every touch. But it did. It quivered like his hand in Russia's grip. His stomach flipped too. He was glad he'd not spoken his doubts aloud. Glad he'd not refused--he'd not wanted to do anyway. Still he hoped it was the right decision and what Ivan truly wanted. What if he'd wanted him to refuse? How could he have? Not with Russia so gentle and worn by his time with Mr. Germany.

Everyone deserved kindness.

He closed his fingers around Russia's and allowed himself to be guided and if he had been seen he knew the pity and worry he'd have seen on at least Lativa's and Estonia's face. How would he have reacted, though? Hard to say with his heart pounding and the nerves that compounded as he entered the bedroom. He looked to his hand as Russia let go and flexed his fingers. Did he miss his touch?

He ducked his head to hide the way that stare and smile affected him. His pulse skipped too. "Of course, Mr. Russia...I-I hope this does you good. I don't like you in pain..." His words fell off as Ivan quite suddenly left. At least it was abrupt to him.

Confusion and uncertainty clouded around the more lithe nation as he trailed after him. He shut the bathroom door behind him and watched Russia. Ivan seemed lost for a few moments and Toris worried for him. Had he done something wrong?

He pulled down his hair and his fingers went to the buttons of his simple collared shirt. But the moment Ivan began to disrobe he stopped.

Germany was wrong.

Anxious as he could be, scared as Ivan could make him, Lithuania knew desire. He knew greed and power and he knew lust.

Russia's body was muscled and large, but not hulking. He wasn't fat. Ivan was perfect. Just the size that Lithuania loved to be pinned by, held down. Ivan was perfect for engulfing him. And so strong and warm. How he huddled into him innocently while cold. Yet that was his body. His face with its distinguished nose and that hair that intrigued him so with its hue: there was nothing unattractive or old about him. Toris could, would, and did desire him. He just didn't like oppression. That's why he'd run.

He was sorry. So sorry. Ivan was just so intimidating. And as much he didn't mind their friendship how could he thrive with his actions always questioned?

'Sorry, I ran.'

He gasped when he was caught watching Ivan and quickly averted his gaze. Oh lord he'd been caught watching him strip! Like he was some voyeur or-or pervert! He coughed and tentatively looked up to see Ivan hesitate at his scarf. He bit his lip.

"I-Ivan," he whispered and let his shirt slip from his shoulders. They both had their scars: Russia had given him his. "I missed you, Ivan." He gave him a joyful smile that he meant, bent down to remove his shoes, and was soon fully bare before him without his own trousers and underclothes. He came to Russia's side.

He kissed his cheek. "I'm happy you're home."

Scars did not frighten Toris, after all he had his own. How could Russia’s disturb him? Of course it wasn’t as if he loved his own scars or the looks they brought. The other Baltics, when they caught sight of them always flinched and pity filled their eyes. There times his scars were marks of pride; he had a spirit even the punishments of Russia did not temper. Others he wondered if they were signs of weakness and foolishness. How many times he’d tried to raise up against Ivan’s rule in the past and failed.

He had once been such a strong nation. He had been a powerful, but giving country and now? He was a joke and he truly believed that. He’d softened from the knight he’d once been. Yet to hate the person who had given him the scars? He was capable of it, but he didn’t. Ivan could be so very cruel, arrogant, and childish. He solved things so often with violence and forced instead of asked, but Toris did not hate him. He held not an ounce of that in his heart. And right now, he was in a daze at the nation’s gentleness.

Ivan could be so beautifully tender. Lithuania had seen it doted him very often and it never failed to send his heart flapping or make his knees weak. He was defenseless against Ivan for so many reasons beyond his strength. So he leaned into his lasting kiss with his lashes closing and lost semblance until Ivan’s fingers slipped from his own.

What would change if the other nations Ivan fought so staunchly against saw this side of him? Would they laugh? Would they see that for all his ruthlessness there was soul that was so lonely and painful it knew no other way?

Russia…no, Ivan. Ivan was beautiful.

Toris stepped to the lip of the tub and shy fingers slid to grasp Ivan’s hand as he dipped his first foot into the steaming water. It was hot, but it a temperature that sent pleasant shivers up his spine and made his skin tingle. He slowly sank into the water after bringing his second foot into the tub. He never let go of Russia’s hand until he too was seated.

He slid to the other side of the tub, legs resting against the insides of Ivan’s and regarded the nation.

“I like this temperature." He let himself finally groan at how much the heat eased away the stress he too had accumulated. He hadn’t realized how tightly his own muscles had been knotted. He let his eyes close and forgot himself as he slid deeper into the water.

How had he earned this hot bath and the company that came with it? Toris’s green eyes were closed as he lounged back in the tub, but his hand had yet to slip from Ivan’s. He wouldn’t remove it until the larger nation wished so. It had been easy to see from the moment he’d come back that Ivan had needed this bath. He could read the weariness on his face and the ache in his frame, but Toris? Toris didn’t need this. He was much more worried about Russia’s spirits. Toris worried about everyone for that was his nature; he smiled sweetly at everyone because that was his nature, but Ivan? Lithuania reserved special ones for him. Cruel, cold Russia whose heart would fall from his chest and whose heart he claimed was frozen.

How he wanted to thaw it.

For now, Ivan was happy and that was all that mattered. Russia’s genuine smiles were achingly beautiful. Toris opened his eyes to peer demurely at him and that’s when he was yanked forward. Eyes wide in shock and body stiff, he was drawn against Ivan. What? He swallowed when arms wound around him and then he gasped as Ivan’s head nestled into his neck. His body felt warmer, his heart was doing funny little leaps, but the touch wasn’t unwanted. No, no he’d just been surprised. Oh, how he willed his body to ease. He didn’t want Russia to think he was he revolted. So he took deep breaths even if they were hard with Russia flush against him. How it made his body tingle, but he leaned back and even pressed back all the more.

This was…nice. It really was. He loved how warm Russia was and how sweet he was being. Lithuania never minded to soothe Ivan when he needed physical contact. He liked it when Russia was happy.

Russia wasn’t happy.

Toris’s eyes snapped open at the feel of hot tears against his throat and then he heard Russia’s ragged breathing. He was crying? Lithuania turned in Russia’s arms without a thought and cupped his cheeks. He didn’t know what had upset Ivan so much and even if he had in that moment, he’d have just smiled and shushed him gently.

Everything’s fine. I forgive you. It’s okay.

“I-Ivan…hey…what’s wrong?” He wrapped his arms around him. “Hey, it’s okay…It’s okay, Ivan…you don’t have to tell me,” he kissed his ear and held him firm and tight. “Shhh, it’s okay, Ivan…I’m here. I’m here, Ivan. Don't be sad, or cry. I'm here. Tell me how to make it better.” He continued to kiss his ear as he rubbed his back and tried to comfort him.

Toris remembered the Bolshevik uprising. Even now were one to mention that period of history he would remember the acrid scent of gunpowder, the sound of gunfire, and the screams as the Bolsheviks rose up against the czar. He remembered crimson snow. He could see the lifeless body of Nicholas I as clear as day. And then Anastasia…

All the people killed…

And yet when thrown back to that memory he remembered cradling Ivan whose body seized in sobs so great it felt as if he didn’t hold him tight enough he would shatter into pieces. The sorrow that painted his face, the confusion, and the complete uncertainty had shaken Toris. Ivan was brave and strong. He smiled even as he was overrun by the Tartars. He claimed he would be strong and yet that day Toris had held a Russia who had broken. He’d had no choice but to kill his boss and for a nation was not their death like having a piece of you ripped away? He’d wanted to save him then, wanted to whisper to him words that would ebb those tears. That day Toris had to be the strong one and yet he could not rescue Russia from what had happened nor what came. No one could have saved Russia, but Toris did not turn his back on Ivan then.

And yet no one had come to even try. Toris could say nothing, but he could be at his side.

How was Toris so trusted? Why did care? And why was he so open to Russia?

As a man of Russian blood had once said, ‘When you love someone, you love the person as they are, and not as you’d like them to be.’ Toris cared so deeply for Ivan and not because always approved of his methods of help, not because he believed his actions inexcusable at times, but because he could and did look beyond that. He considered Estonia and Lativa like his brothers, but they did not know what lied behind the smiles Russia gave. He saw Ivan for what he was, a nation who loved too much, but one that few understood.

Just like he had in 1917, Toris cradled Ivan now. He deserved to be comforted, to be held. Even had he believed Ivan a monster, he still would have. Monsters, after all were not born. They were created.

Russian endearments left his lips softly. He rubbed Ivan’s back.

“What a large heart you have…so often pain and torture are inevitable for someone who cares so deeply. The heart breaks, it falls out. Sadness plagues those whose love is big because so few understand.” He leaned his head against Russia’s. “I have little right to promise you so, for I have run…I have invoked your sadness and punishment. I have hurt you, but I promise you…I swear, Ivan, that I will do my best. Whenever your heart breaks or falls out, I will mend it and return it as best as I can. Tears do not suit your beautiful face.” He pulled him closer and held his head to his shoulder. Would he could erase all his pain, no matter its origin.

Toris was well acquainted to tears. Though few were allowed to be witness of them, among them Russia. He’d cried before Russia when his forces had first taken his land and people. He’d cried again after falling to him as the USSR. He’d cried when he’d been punished and his back had broken and bled, but only after and Ivan had found him against Toris’s will to be found. Crying was just as distasteful to Toris, at least his own. He didn’t mind the tears of others and when others were in pain it let Toris ascend his own sadness, but unlike Russia he’d never begged a force to take his emotions. He’d sliced his wrists, held a gun to his head and pulled the trigger. He’d hung himself to be free of the turmoil within him. The turmoil of the world and now there was another blizzard upon him—war.

He had once been such a great country, Lithuania…was that all dust now?

With Ivan in his arms, even as he played the strong rock, he doubted he was the wolf that once was. Yet had no room for such thoughts. Mr. Russia was not the Mongolian Empire, he never would be. There was a darkness in Russia. It was frightening and icy as the winter outside and the storms that blew in from the sea, but within him was also warmth. One side did not excuse the other; Lithuania would always ache when he remembered just how callous Russia could be. The feel of the whip against his back, blood trickling over his sides and the rawness that had lasted weeks and weeks could be recalled just as freshly as if it had all happened yesterday and yet…Yet Lithuania could forgive. He would always forgive because even if the past could not be erased he believed he’d seen the true Russia. A man who adored sunflowers and only wanted friends and the power to keep them safe.

He smiled at Russia when their eyes met. He was so selfish and yet Toris loved him. Ivan believed he was doing the right thing and even if Toris thought there could have been better ways, he would believe that least Russia had good intentions—even when he didn’t. He loved Russia and even sometimes when he would smile that chilling grin, croon in a way that promised pain, Toris’s heart would jump not in fright but excitement.

Maybe he too was selfish.

And that was why he kissed him back, cupped his cheeks and pulled his mouth closer and closer. He smiled and nibbled at his lips. “I’m here. They’ll have to force me away,” he murmured to his mouth and let himself press into him as tight as Russia would allow.