Countryhumans oneshots

🇷🇺x🇨🇵 Behind closed doors Russian Empire x France

The giant double doors to his room stood tall before him, dim candle light shining through underneath them. He took the time to just listen in the darkness for a bit, one could hear a pin drop. France must have taken a few hits and pretty rough treatment to keep this quiet. What a nice thought, that snappy bastard being put in his supposed place most likely by St. Petersburg. The man may not be a big fan of violence, but he disliked disrespect and stubbornness even more. Both of which were traits the Frenchman definitely acted out without shame. Although shame was something mostly foreign for the horny bastard, tell him to spread his legs and he does without hesitation. Russia had to force himself to stop grinning before finally opening one door and stepping into the room. Surprise washed over him at the strange display. St. Petersburg was wiping his bloody knuckles with a handkerchief and quickly turned to bow for him. France however could really use that handkerchief more. He was in fact kneeling on the ground and seemed a bit disoriented. The two guards on his sides now each also had one knee on the ground, bowing their heads low and quickly grabbing his shoulders to push his upper body to the floor, where he landed with a dump thud. His nose and a laceration on his forehead were bleeding. It was becoming more obvious that the blood on his hands surely wasn't St. Petersburg's own.
"Please excuse this... situation, my Tsar. He just would not cooperate, so he had to learn another way." His capital apologized, a certain disgust carrying over in his tone, as he walked over and handed the Tsar the two keys for their captives' restraints. The guards stood up again and France lifted his upper body from the floor, quite shaky in his movements, obvious if one were to observe him closely. But the look he shot the Empire just a second later, made a shudder creep under the man's clothes and skin. It went unnoticed.
"It's quite alright, you seem to have gotten him under control just fine. That's why you're my capital. You always know, or find a way to get them under control somehow." The dark, threatening tone towards the end of his sentence made a twisted smile grow on his and St. Petersburg's faces, while the guards shrunk into themselves and France grit his teeth. He knew what the Russian was up to, this was his act of petty revenge. But he knew how these situations went, well from the other perspective at least. And he knew he wouldn't meet the guillotine at the end of it, like many of the people he had met like this did. His mind was still a bit cloudy from the punches and it was harder to grasp a thought like this, so he just kinda sat there with his gaze kept low on the wooden floor. The sharp sound of metal immediately alerted him and he tried to blink the remaining reactionary tears out of his eyes to better see what was going on around him. He had very little success when he already felt what had caused the sound. The Russian Empire lifted his head with the tip of a shashka (a type of sword used in russia during the 19th century; all information I have are from the german Wikipedia about it) under his chin and grinned down at him as two tears fell from his eyes when they cleared up. This was the hottest state he'd ever seen France in. Chained, on his knees before him, his clothes ruffled and messy, nose and lips a bloody mess, a trail of the crimson liquid slowly drying on the side of his face and smeared, half dry blood all over the man's face, neck and clothes. They stared into each other's eyes in a silent fight. Conveying emotions unreadable for the rest of the room, anger, shame, passion, pettiness, lust, all flashing through them in seconds, dragging on like hours in a hot, crowded room. The last little string of patience and restraint the Russian Empire had left to cling onto snapped, when France bared his neck to the sword and grinned devilishly at him, pressing out his chest and widening the gap between his knees as far as his pants would allow him to. This was a challenge, one that the two guards and St. Petersburg would never understand, their confused expressions and unsure body language testified exactly this. Meanwhile the Russian Empire had to bite the inside of his cheek to save himself from the embarrassment of visibly shuddering at the display. He snarled, showing off his teeth for a moment, and snapped his head to the side to look directly at St. Petersburg and ordering him and the guards out. The three didn't question anything and just hurried to leave with the Empires piercing gaze on their backs.
"You know... St. Petersburg would have no problem killing a man with those punches and kicks, that guy couldn't put up much of a fight. Been a while since I felt any pain as strong as that."
"You're kneeling before me, the tip of my sword under your chin and every vulnerable part of your body exposed to my blade." He paused shortly, lowering said blade to the man's sternum, before continuing his sentence.
"And the first thing you do is compliment my capital's ability to fight?"
"What can I say? I didn't think you'd leave me waiting here for you for such a long time... that was a really mean thing to do, love." France cooed as the faded colours of his once vibrant flag returned to his face and body. The Russian Empire let an honest smile creep onto his face and his posture relax. His eyes softened and he let out a long breath. The sword left Frances sternum and skillfully trained hands carefully guided it back into its sheath.
"You're incorrigible... you know that right?" The tension left both men and the room, its atmosphere now rather goofy than hostile, or even sexual. France sunk back down into himself, as if he were sitting on his ankles and leaned his head forward into the offered hand. The Russian Empire, now with his lover's cheek in his left palm, got closer and on one knee to inspect the wounds and open the restraints.
"You like that about me tho... don't you?"
"I can't deny the truth." Their voices were soft, quiet. Golden eyes meeting mismatched red and blue ones, closing when finally, after months, two familiar pairs of lips met in each other's soft, delicate embrace only hesitantly leaving each other again.
"You're a mess, love..." Russian Empire whispered and started to clean France's face with his own handkerchief as gently as he could, wetting it with his own saliva and wiping away the blood. Ghosting kisses along the now somewhat clean skin. France just let him do it, it felt good to be taken care of and he did not get to feel like this often.
"You know...." A pause and hum of acknowledgement followed France's words.
"I've been thinking. About us, our relationship and the situation." Worried golden eyes tried to meet avoiding red and blue ones now. Any movements halted and slowly the words continued their flow.
"I can live anywhere I want, under the condition that the ruling countryhuman there allows it, in 14 months from now." The worry now gave way to a hopeful excitement and awakened a new shine in those lovey honey coloured eyes.
"I was thinking... maybe you'd open your doors to me and get me thicker blankets for those unbearable winters, you like so much?" The tight embrace that followed his words, knocked the air out of his lungs and made an almost painful relief wash over him.
"I'll have the thickest blankets on this planet made for you! Why on earth would you be this nervous to ask for that?" After ages the lock on his wrists chains clicked open and released his arms to move freely again. A pained groan left him as the blood started properly flowing now and therefore intensifying the pulsing dull ache. Ignoring that, he slumped against the Russian and clung to his back, head on his shoulder, nose buried against his neck.
"You stopped replying to my letters a while ago. I feared I might have offended you with something I had written. So I decided to just come and visit. I told you to keep your bedroom window open for me and figured you'd not want me here if it were closed..." A small pause followed his words, as if he were conflicted on whether he should give more in or leave it at that. "I also had a few fights with my brother, so it all got to my head. In my joy about the open window I didn't look around properly and got caught." He pushed the rest out quickly, but hesitant. Afterwards he breathed in his lover's scent, as if checking to see if he was really there, by his side and he was.
"I was terribly busy, love. I couldn't find the time to write to you. Had I known you'd take it to heart like this.... I would have just taken the time." Now the truth was out. While France was just sitting there, holding on to the taller Russian, said man fumbled with the keys to his chains in order to also free his feet at last.
"Why are you this busy... your country is doing pretty good at the moment, isn't it?" It sounded more like a childish complaint than an actual question. Like a young boy, who can not understand how his father could have business more important than listening to what new toys his friends had.
"My country is not the only one in this world you know? If I want to keep peace, I can't have war and conflicts being the only things that surround me."
"So in other words you're mingling in other countries' business and problems again."
"You could put it that way-" Rough hands, one slapped over his mouth, the other with a vice grip on his shoulder, interrupted his justification.
"When did any of them ever thank you?" Sharp, mismatched eyes met wide golden ones.
"When did any of them ever work towards getting rid of the bad stereotypes about you and your people?" Now golden eyes were avoiding him. The red and blue ones are burning like flames and freezing like ice at the same time. He wanted to get away and get closer all at the same time, but his body was frozen in place. France noticed his lover's distress, his eyes softened and hold loosened. He sighted and replaced his right hand from the Russian Empire's mouth to the back of his head. His left was going to pull him into a close hug, rather than the tense stare-off the two were just caught in. After a few minutes of comfortable silence, the Russian Empire decided to speak up, as his knees were starting to hurt and he didn't even wanna imagine what France felt like.
"I guess we both need some time off, don't we?" A little chuckle from each of them interrupted him.
"Let's go lay down for today love. My body is killing me right now..." France finished his like of thought. Suddenly a harsh thunder shattered their calm atmosphere, lightning illuminated the room in a garishly white light for a second or two and the rain began pounding against the window. Not even a second later Russian Empire had a curled up, tense Frenchman clinging to his jacket. He just hushed him with, whispered sweet nothings to him, as he picked him up and went to tuck them both in for the night.
Under those thick blankets their eyes met for the last time, both pairs soft and filled with emotion now. The dark circles under the Russians' eyes made France sigh, push himself up higher in the bed and press the Russian Empire's head to his chest. There was no resistance as their bodies entangled for the night. Getting as much contact as possible and sharing their warmth.

"You really need more sleep, love..."
"I'll work on that once there's peace around my borders..."
"You're incorrigible too, you know..."
"I still can't deny the truth..."
"Good night..."
"Sleep well..."

A/N

This is a picture of a shashka (in the middle). Don't mind the spelling that's how it's spelled in german.
I hope you liked this, feel free to tell me what you think!
As I said requests are still open, feel free to ask.
Have a nice day/night!