Oneshots (countryhumans)

Exahustion

The oblique rays of sunlight filtered through the linen window curtains and cast long, glowing rectangles onto the comforter. America stared at the ceiling, blinking the sleep from his eyes with a small yawn. He gingerly shifted to his left, gazing at the still-sleeping figure next to him. It was rare Russia looked so peaceful, the sweet embrace of unconsciousness stealing away any of the tension or stress that would normally plague his features as a constant downward tilt of the lips or a furrowed brow. He always seemed to appear callous at worst and indifferent at best, though, America had known him long enough to be able to pick out the spark in his eye when he found something amusing, or the way he smiled with softened eyes rather than upturned lips.

It was difficult for America to resist the urge to gently brush a few tangled strands of hair out of his eyes but he knew better than to initiate physical contact at random. Russia hated to be touched, it really was no wonder he and the American had clashed so viciously with one another for many years before. America had always been fairly physical, even outside of intimate affection. He had no qualms about slinging an arm around a new acquaintance, excitedly grasping one's hand while speaking to them, comforting others with a warm embrace. He had always found touch to be quite grounding. Comforting.

Russia was exactly the opposite. He ardently shunned any form of physical touch, a handshake was as far as he was willing to go with nearly everyone he knew. He had been like this as long as most people had known him, though, his siblings sometimes claimed he used to be quite a sensitive child, before the death of their mother. Still, it was a miracle America had actually managed to kiss him at some point, and he was still unsure how he accomplished such a feat.

But the unique status of their relationship did not change Russia's opinion of physical affection. If America was too bold with a simple attempt to hold the other's hand, he was met with a flustered glare and a lot of sass. It was a tad frustrating that he was unable to properly shower the Russian in affection, as he would with any partner, friend, or family member, but he respected boundaries, only reciprocating touch the other started.

America kept still—aware the other was a very light sleeper—watching him breathe softly. He was glad Russia was sleeping late for once, especially after the long work day he had the day before, stress-filled meetings and an endless stream of reports to review and sign off on. Despite awfully late nights, the other was usually still up at the break of dawn. However, it seemed exhaustion had finally caught up to him as he remained asleep even though the sun had already risen above the horizon. America sighed, and Russia's eyes shot open. A pang of guilt went through the American as he smiled.

"Mornin'," He breathed out quietly. Russia stared at him blankly, mind still groggy as he adjusted to being conscious.

"Hmm," Was his only reply as his eyes blinked slowly four or five times. Strangely, the familiar glower of stress did not return to his face as it normally did after he gathered his thoughts. Instead, Russia continued eyeing the other carefully. America was about to ask if "the lights were on in there" when, in one swift movement, Russia snaked an arm around his torso and drew him to his chest, pressing his face into the crook of the American's neck.

America was in shock, similar to what he might feel if he one day witnessed the Statue of Liberty walking down the Hudson. To be fair, he would have found that more probable than something like this. He was afraid to breathe, worried even the slightest movement would break whatever fragile spell was over the Russian. Instead, he remained still, the other's breath tickling his neck as Russia seemed to allow his mind to slip back into a half-consciousness. America couldn't keep the smile from his face as he relished the other's warmth and uncharacteristic gentleness, willing the sun to slow its gradual rise into the morning sky.

After a few minutes of complete stillness, America lifted a hand, delicately resting it on the other's shoulder, tempting fate. To his immense surprise, Russia did not stir. In fact, he pressed himself against the American even more, draping one of his legs over the other's. America could no longer hold back. Shifting to his side, he wrapped himself around the Russian like a koala on a tree branch, and nearly squealed at the absence of protest from the other. Russia continued slipping in and out of drowsy consciousness, unaware of the elation his thoughtless actions had caused in the other.

The sensation of a fingers gently carding through Russia's hair retrieved long-buried childhood memories, of a simpler, happier time. These memories were dangerous. They were so clear, so vivid it was as if all he needed to do was reach out and grasp them, and things would simply go back to how they were. But that was impossible. They shattered like glass in his hands, the sound of his mother's voice, his father's smile, the wonder of innocence forever distorted by memory and lost to time. Being thrust back into harsh reality left him grieving all over again, grieving who he was and who he never could be. So, Russia avoided remembering when he could help it.

However, it seemed exhaustion had stripped away any caution or self-preservation, allowing that small, sensitive part of himself to again reach for that familiar warmth and comfort. It felt so nice to be weak for once. Russia felt the soft, rhythmic beat of America's heart, and let himself be lulled to sleep.

~

"So.." America leaned against the cool granite countertop, raising a brow over his warm cup of coffee. "Wanna explain what-"

"No," Russia cut him off with a look as America smirked, taking a sip from his mug. He didn't miss the softness in the Russian's eyes as he sighed and shook his head.

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1045 words

*edited 2/5/24

Guys I uploaded two chapters within the same month, I'm going crazy.

I like writing a bit more in-depth about characters and their dynamics or whatever. This might be cringe, but I'm way too tired to tell right now so, sorry (?) As always, sincerest apologies for any spelling/grammar mistakes.

Yeehaw

-Author