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hetalia2010-01-17 10:48 am
amygirl.livejournal.com) wrote in hetalia2010-01-17 10:48 am
Entry tags:
[Fic] Some Comfor Here (5/5)
Title: Some Comfort Here (5/5)
Author: Amy
Characters/Pairings: America, Russia
Rating: PG
Warnings: Fluff-overtones,
Summary: All America needs is a good 8-hours of solid sleep, help comes from the most unexpected of places.
Note: Originally posted at the kink meme.
Part 1 * Part 2 * Part 3 * Part 4
* * *
America wasn’t used to waking up next to someone.
It wasn’t that he didn’t have encounters with other nations from time to time. It was just that those encounters were usually very brief and intense and there wasn’t any time spent lying in each other’s arms in the afterglow. Even if he had been open to the idea the other nations in question were usually out the door before he’d even really had the time to register that they’d been there at all. Because of that there were only a few people out there that knew America’s deepest secret…
He loved to cuddle.
So when he woke with his head still muzzy with sleep to thick, strong arms wrapped tightly around him his first reaction was to sigh in contentment and lean back further into the embrace. At least until his thinking capabilities caught up with him and he realized just who he was attempting to cuddle with. Even after that discovery was made and he pulled himself away from Russia he didn’t move very far.
The room was still mostly dark, just the barest glint of rising sunlight seeping in through the cracks in the curtain. America couldn’t tell exactly what time it was, the clock was on Russia’s side of the bed and he hadn’t worn his watch, but his internal clock told him it was still early, maybe sometime around 6 a.m. He felt much better thanks to the few hours of solid sleep he’d gotten. His mind felt sharper, though it still clung to the idea of more sleep now that it had gotten a taste of it.
He knew he should get up and head back to his room to start getting ready for the last day of the conference. His brain knew it but the rest of him didn’t seem quite so convinced that this was a good idea. Eventually after much mental arguing with himself he managed to get his arm to move and slid it out from underneath the arm Russia had wrapped almost possessively around his waist. He used it to rub at his eyes and futz with the hair he could feel sticking out in every direction.
Russia didn’t seem to appreciate this small bit of morning ritual. He protested his displeasure by sliding closer to the other nation in bed with him pressing himself right up against America’s back. America felt the Russian’s lips moving against the skin of his shoulder as the other nation murmured something in his barely awake state. America couldn’t understand him. The words were just bare fragments of incoherent Russian probably wouldn’t make sense to anyone, even those from his native land. It was the voice that snatched America’s attention and wouldn’t let it go. It was rough and sleepy and caused America’s stomach to flip in ways it probably shouldn’t. Russia then buried his face into America’s hair and tightened the arm around his waist pulling him back into an even closer embrace. He finished the process by slinging a solid and very long, bare leg over America’s. Apparently completely satisfied with what he’d accomplished, he fell back to sleep.
America knew he should be irritated at being treated as a body pillow in the most literal fashion imaginable. But he just couldn’t seem to work up the proper emotion. He was too comfortable and warm and Russia was so endearing when he was half asleep. He always had been and it was almost impossible to stay mad at him when he was. Without even thinking about it America leaned back into the embrace. Russia’s grip tightened a fraction more and his face shifted so it was resting against America’s shoulder further wrapping and tangling them together.
Again the thought filtered through his mind that he should get himself up and moving and head back to his room but he quickly talked himself back out of it. It would be rude to disturb Russia when he’d been nice enough to allow America to sleep in his room…in his bed…when they could barely qualify as acquaintances these days much less anything more. Besides Russia would probably be getting up soon anyway. He always seemed to be annoyingly early to the meetings these days. There would be more then enough time to get back to his room and get ready if he got up when Russia did so there was little need to disturb him now. With that thought America’s brain became as convinced as the rest of him that going back to sleep was a perfectly logical idea.
He drifted off to join Russia within the comfort of the silence a few moments later.
~ ~ ~ ~
The End
Author: Amy
Characters/Pairings: America, Russia
Rating: PG
Warnings: Fluff-overtones,
Summary: All America needs is a good 8-hours of solid sleep, help comes from the most unexpected of places.
Note: Originally posted at the kink meme.
Part 1 * Part 2 * Part 3 * Part 4
* * *
America wasn’t used to waking up next to someone.
It wasn’t that he didn’t have encounters with other nations from time to time. It was just that those encounters were usually very brief and intense and there wasn’t any time spent lying in each other’s arms in the afterglow. Even if he had been open to the idea the other nations in question were usually out the door before he’d even really had the time to register that they’d been there at all. Because of that there were only a few people out there that knew America’s deepest secret…
He loved to cuddle.
So when he woke with his head still muzzy with sleep to thick, strong arms wrapped tightly around him his first reaction was to sigh in contentment and lean back further into the embrace. At least until his thinking capabilities caught up with him and he realized just who he was attempting to cuddle with. Even after that discovery was made and he pulled himself away from Russia he didn’t move very far.
The room was still mostly dark, just the barest glint of rising sunlight seeping in through the cracks in the curtain. America couldn’t tell exactly what time it was, the clock was on Russia’s side of the bed and he hadn’t worn his watch, but his internal clock told him it was still early, maybe sometime around 6 a.m. He felt much better thanks to the few hours of solid sleep he’d gotten. His mind felt sharper, though it still clung to the idea of more sleep now that it had gotten a taste of it.
He knew he should get up and head back to his room to start getting ready for the last day of the conference. His brain knew it but the rest of him didn’t seem quite so convinced that this was a good idea. Eventually after much mental arguing with himself he managed to get his arm to move and slid it out from underneath the arm Russia had wrapped almost possessively around his waist. He used it to rub at his eyes and futz with the hair he could feel sticking out in every direction.
Russia didn’t seem to appreciate this small bit of morning ritual. He protested his displeasure by sliding closer to the other nation in bed with him pressing himself right up against America’s back. America felt the Russian’s lips moving against the skin of his shoulder as the other nation murmured something in his barely awake state. America couldn’t understand him. The words were just bare fragments of incoherent Russian probably wouldn’t make sense to anyone, even those from his native land. It was the voice that snatched America’s attention and wouldn’t let it go. It was rough and sleepy and caused America’s stomach to flip in ways it probably shouldn’t. Russia then buried his face into America’s hair and tightened the arm around his waist pulling him back into an even closer embrace. He finished the process by slinging a solid and very long, bare leg over America’s. Apparently completely satisfied with what he’d accomplished, he fell back to sleep.
America knew he should be irritated at being treated as a body pillow in the most literal fashion imaginable. But he just couldn’t seem to work up the proper emotion. He was too comfortable and warm and Russia was so endearing when he was half asleep. He always had been and it was almost impossible to stay mad at him when he was. Without even thinking about it America leaned back into the embrace. Russia’s grip tightened a fraction more and his face shifted so it was resting against America’s shoulder further wrapping and tangling them together.
Again the thought filtered through his mind that he should get himself up and moving and head back to his room but he quickly talked himself back out of it. It would be rude to disturb Russia when he’d been nice enough to allow America to sleep in his room…in his bed…when they could barely qualify as acquaintances these days much less anything more. Besides Russia would probably be getting up soon anyway. He always seemed to be annoyingly early to the meetings these days. There would be more then enough time to get back to his room and get ready if he got up when Russia did so there was little need to disturb him now. With that thought America’s brain became as convinced as the rest of him that going back to sleep was a perfectly logical idea.
He drifted off to join Russia within the comfort of the silence a few moments later.
~ ~ ~ ~
The End
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Nice work. <3
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America was lucky that Russia didn't grab him harder when he tried to move. XD
This fic was adorable. I love how you portrayed Russia and you did a really good job at Russia and America's interactions.
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:-)
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Glad you enjoyed it sweets!
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The end was really cute and that line...I loved it,it actually fits with the image I have in my mind for Alfred.
Good work and this pairing needs more love,thanks for spreading it!
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Thanks for the comment!
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Great fic!
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I love fluffy Russia/America and it is fairly rare it's all angst & gloom which I understand but like to change up every once in a while.
Thanks for the comment!