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Impulses

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Switzerland was not a heavy sleeper. Even in his most peaceful of hours, all it took was a small noise or upsetting motion to rouse him to wakefulness.

And that was a shame, because it really had been a peaceful hour before some idiot had barged into his room.

Vash had been perfectly comfortable and relaxed when a faint click imposed on his dozing ears. It was followed by a soft change in the degree of darkness against his eyelids, causing him to frown in his half-lucid state.

He sensed the looming presence of another being not far away, a niggling sensation of alarmed confusion causing the hair upon his arms and the back of his neck to stand on end.

That was when he reacted.

His hand was underneath the pillow and grasping his pistol before he even opened his eyes. The safety was clicked off as he jerked into a sitting position with well-practiced coordination, like a puppet on strings. Then he was aiming at the shape in the doorway, glaring with adrenaline-fueled outrage at -...

"Roderich?!"

The human name slipped out with a startled yelp as the man in question stood frozen in the doorway. Austria's eyes were wide with his own surprise, dark violet and strikingly ethereal without the weak-prescription glasses which usually shielded them.

Deer in headlights.

Lowering the weapon, Vash glared even harder. He had forgotten, whilst upon the precipice of sleep, that the musician was staying over for a few days of winter vacation. At least twice a year, Roderich called and asked to visit, and at least twice a year, Vash allowed him to come over in all his pompous glory and elegant taste.

Ever since the 70's, they'd reconciled most of their past and had formed a casual friendship which, although not as close as it had been back then, was undeniably something again.

Moreover, Lili enjoyed it when their neighbor across the Alps made the trip to join them in their home. Sometimes Vash pretended to himself that he endorsed the visits for her sake – and how he envied and admired her capacity to be so loving, so welcoming, so forgiving.

Of course, he knew his adopted sister wasn't the sole reason he let Roderich come visit so often. He wasn't so selfless as that. Over the centuries, he'd lived through a myriad of emotions regarding Austria's presence in his life. Some had been pure, others ugly, and a vast majority wretchedly bittersweet.

One thing Vash couldn't deny, even to himself, was that Roderich always had a way of making him feel, even when he took such pride in his unemotional facades.

There was nothing quite stoic about him now, however. He felt rattled, jolted half out of bed and half through the heart.

Damn it, he could have just shot his friend and neighbor. His finger had been on the trigger and Roderich would have had no protection... Of course, he would have survived and healed, but even so. Did the idiot even realize how close he'd come to-?!

"What the hell are you doing in here?" Vash demanded. The irritation coating his tone was directed more at the thoughts he was having than the man in front of him.

He watched as Roderich's chest heaved up and down with a shaky breath. His long fingers had been gripping the doorknob tightly, but they relaxed after the gun was directed away.

"My apologies," Austria uttered, swiftly composing his tone and countenance into the vaguely gracious, self-assured demeanor Vash was used to seeing and hearing from him. "I was on my way back from the bathroom and I must have made a mistake with the doors."

A frown flickered across Switzerland's face at the explanation, but he put the safety back on his pistol and returned it to its hiding place. "I should have figured." Rolling his eyes, he pointed to the right. "The guest bedroom is two doors down."

I should just put his name on the door so he can find it easier. The insane notion briefly crossed the blonde's mind, followed by, What am I thinking?

"Ah, so that's where it was... Danke." Instead of leaving like any sensible person would have done, Roderich continued to stand in the doorway. His expression was still mostly unreadable, though his eyes were undeniably searching. He did look lost, perhaps lost in more ways than one.

With his adrenaline-fueled defensiveness receding, Vash felt his cheeks color slightly at the scrutiny. There he was, caught in the frilly pink pajamas Lili had sewn for him. He was feeling grumpy at the interruption of his sleep, not to mention the panic of his room being invaded, followed by the panic of nearly injuring the fellow nation he'd known for centuries.

Settling back down into bed, he pulled the duvet up to his chin and waited for Roderich to go away.

He should have known better.

"What is it?" He snapped finally, taking the bait.

In the low light, Vash could just discern the slight tilt of Roderich's head, the one that meant he was about to ask a question. "I'm also cold..."

"There's an extra blanket if you look in the bottom drawer of the nightstand in your room." Vash mumbled before he could think of the implications of what he'd just said. Your room.

Well, it was true enough that Roderich inhabited it more than anyone else...

"How thoughtful of you." The dark-haired man murmured, although he still didn't sound very appeased. "I was thinking that, since I'm already here, I could..."

Oh, he wasn't going to say what Vash thought he was going to say, surely... Austria had long-since grown, he was now taller than Switzerland and just as proud, and certainly he would not ask to...

"...sleep here with you?" Roderich finished quietly, and there was a softening in his voice that Vash hadn't heard in quite some time, a sweetness to the man's normally supercilious tone which made the blonde pause disbelievingly and actually consider the request.

"But I could have shot you just now." He countered after a few moments. "I almost did."

"You didn't, though." Austria shrugged slightly, a simple lift of one shoulder that sent his pale blue night shirt slipping over one side of his collarbone for the briefest of moments. "It wouldn't have been the end of the world if you had." He pointed out matter-of-fact, and there was something deeply disturbing to that statement even though Vash knew it was true, knew that Roderich had been shot before and lived, knew he would always live through such things because even the weakest of nations were stronger than normal people.

And Austria was weak, he always had been. That was why he'd needed Switzerland in the very beginning, to be his first friend and protector.

Now, the musician wasn't completely hopeless. His many defeats over the course of life had shaped him just as much as his victories had. He was strong in ways widely unseen, and unappreciated.

But he still needed people, couldn't stand to be on his own for very often even after so many instances of being abandoned, being left. He still reached out to his neighbors and friends, something which Vash often couldn't understand within his age-old cocoon of neutrality.

But if you weren't this way, where would we be now?

"I trust you." Roderich added, taking the smallest of steps forward into the room as if he'd already been accepted in.

He may as well have been. Vash wasn't going to turn him away. Not again.

Switzerland sighed, a huff which projected frustration to cover up the muddled mass of protective feelings the former aristocrat had stirred up inside of him. He tossed open one end of the covers, scooting over to make room.

"Just quit wandering around my house and close the door." He commanded. "One of these days, you're going to open the wrong one."

"That's not always such a bad thing." Roderich shut the door behind him obediently with a gentle click, picking his way over to the free side of the bed and sitting down. He looked down at Vash with slightly upturned lips, the hint of a smile softening his eyes. "You were behind this door, after all."

Vash grunted, averting his eyes as heat crept up his cheeks. "Luckily for you." He was most certainly not flattered by whatever stupid charm Austria had decided to turn on him, even when - especially when - he knew the words were perfectly honest. He had always been able to tell when Roderich was lying, just like he was able to tell when Roderich wanted something. Or needed something.

"Get under the covers before you let all the warmth out." He grumbled in response.

He heard Roderich chuckle softly beside him as he slipped underneath the duvet, the smooth sound of silk pajamas on cotton sheets filling in the silence.

It didn't take long for Roderich to settle, fitting into Vash's bed like they did this far more often than the reality, as if he'd always belonged there.

Vash had let Lili sleep in his bed a few times before, when she was afraid or feeling unwell, but he had never been as aware of her presence beside him as he was of Roderich's. It was entirely different. Not unpleasant, but different.

"Thank you." Roderich murmured, and his voice sounded clear and close. He must have turned his head to face Vash.

"Ja. It's fine."

"I mean, thank you for letting me stay here at all. I've missed you."

Finally setting his gaze on the taller man once more, Vash felt his own expression soften. His entire body seemed to relax, with the threat of danger gone and replaced by the comforting nearness of a familiar body. "It's good to see you, too." He admitted.

Switzerland would never admit such an idea out loud, but maybe it was better to have Roderich like this, where he could keep track of him - keep him safe just like old times, if only just for a night. They were far too different to stay together for very long, but when they did see each other, it was always something he privately looked forward to very much. He wondered if Roderich felt the same way, and why he really wanted to sleep in the same bed as him.

I trust you, he'd said.

That was an answer in itself, but not the entire reason.

"Why did you lie?" He asked, his tone insouciant.

Violet eyes which had been at half-mast snapped wide open. "What?"

"You said you came from the bathroom, but the bathroom is past my room to the left. When you opened my door, your back was partially angled to the right, as if you'd come from your bedroom." Vash repeated the question, careful to keep his tone gentle. "Why did you lie?"

Roderich initially parted his lips to refute the statement, an evasive spark of defiance fear hurt flashing through his gaze before his eyes darkened. He looked down guiltily. "Still so tactically oriented... Nothing escapes you." He murmured. "If you must know, I wanted to...to check on you."

That wasn't what Vash had been expecting at all.

Before he could formulate a response, Roderich was explaining in detail. His words were slow, tinged with a strange sort of urgent concern.

"I had a nightmare. We were on the mountains. It was snowing, heavily, and you were stuck. You weren't moving, and I couldn't – no matter how hard I tried to reach you, there was more distance in the way, a white expanse blending in with the sky. It was freezing, and you were being covered. I tried calling for you, but you never answered. Perhaps I was too far away. The snow eventually came down so thickly that I couldn't see anything anymore. I couldn't feel myself moving forward, couldn't sense you there at all. It went from white to darkness, and I woke up."

Roderich still wasn't looking at him, choosing instead to trace the patterns in Vash's comforter with a perfectly manicured index finger. "It all sounds ridiculous now, doesn't it? But I wondered if the dream was a result of my being here, so I wanted to see you."

Vash snorted softly. "It was just a dream because you were cold. Ever since Freud, you worry too much about the subconscious."

"You could put it that way. Or you could think I was worried about you." Roderich lifted his head, and there was nothing wounded or lost in his eyes anymore. He looked determined. "I don't want to be that far away from you."

The word again went unsaid, but Vash heard it anyway and fought hard not to wince.

"I don't want to be so far away that I can't hear you, can't see you, can't help you."

"I don't need you to help me - " Vash started, but quickly realized that was the wrong thing to say when Roderich's entire expression began to fold into something like defeat. " - but I'm not going anywhere."

Too many years, he thought. Too many damn years of pushing each other away, for what?

The many things which had driven stakes and wedges and mountains between them didn't seem so gargantuan now, in the simple warmth and closeness of the moment they were sharing.

I don't need you to help me, but I need you for something.

Austria was lying on his side facing Switzerland, with his cheek pressed to the pillow and his hands resting in the space between himself and the blonde.

Those pale, elegant hands were slack against the mattress, one resting lightly on top of the other. Vash felt an inexplicable urge to scoot just a little bit closer and place his own hand over the soft skin.

Roderich had been truthful when he said he was cold. His hands were cool to the touch, and Vash figured it would only be right to leave his hand covering them. After all, it was in his best interest to keep Roderich warm somehow. He didn't want the man stealing all his covers when he'd already been put out enough by allowing him to sleep in his bed.

At least, that's what Vash told himself. His brain didn't seem much interested in coming up with explanations as to why he was doing what he was doing, however.

"I'll never be that far away from you." He declared with intense sincerity, and knew in his heart that he'd just made a promise which he intended to keep this time. "You're always free to reach me."

Roderich's hands twitched slightly beneath Vash's own. Despite his often aloof and cool appearances, Austria was, naturally, very touch-oriented. He responded particularly to human contact, and could be played just as easily as the instruments he so adored, when in the right hands.

Now, in the low moonlight shining through a gap in the curtains and spreading in dim beams, Vash could finally see a smile grace his old friend's face. Those elegant hands took his own, lacing their fingers together, and they were both beginning to warm.

In all his years, Vash had never forgotten anything about his time with Roderich. From before the Habsburgs, to the Battles of Zürich and the War to End All Wars and the worst war following that one, Vash remembered it all. He wasn't like Roderich, who seemed able to shove memories to some place even he could not retrieve them from whenever it suited him. The decades of Vash's life were filled with this violet-eyed, deceptively delicate man, to the point where he could hardly imagine any other way, though he was ashamed now to recall he had tried.

He'd pushed him away in an effort to force away the pain and avoid more hurt, but Roderich insisted on politely pushing back.

Why you keep coming back, why you continue to want to be near me, to gain my attention...are they the same reasons I have for keeping my distance?

"I don't need you to help me." He repeated, soft tone hardly above a whisper. "But you being here helps."

He truly didn't mind the closeness, thinking that perhaps this was a long time coming, that all those years of jagged edges and careful distance across space and time had been necessary for them to learn.

"You idiot, I've always cared." His voice cracked slightly, and he wasn't sure whether or not he was simply talking to himself at this point, but Roderich seemed to understand, seemed to be reassured and moved.

"I know," The dark-haired man replied, with a light and simple acceptance which quietly floored his companion. The hand in his tightened briefly, a gentle squeeze before slackening. "I remember that much, Schweiz."

Perhaps Roderich was, in some ways, like Lili. Perhaps he was also forgiving and good and kind, even despite all those marks and mars which mapped out his scarred history.

Perhaps Vash, older and more tired than the both of them, could be like that, too.

He noticed that the other man had gone very still beside him, eyes shut softly and and lips parted just slightly.

Vash found himself staring at his neighbor's face, vulnerable and innocent in the beginning holds of sleep. He looked younger this way, softened without the sharp angle of his glasses and the cautious, protective masks he interchanged throughout the day.

He knew Roderich tried very hard to impress other people. Austria would wear himself out by the end of the day with all the effort he put into his tone, his expressions, his movements. Everything he did in front of others was carefully censored and monitored so as not to embarrass himself. He rarely failed to appear regal and in control. Very few people were able to see him in this natural state. Roderich didn't let his aristocratic walls down lightly.

But Vash remembered that boy with amethyst jewels for eyes, long before he'd ever been groomed for the throne, the marriage altar or the battlefield. He remembered a naivete and purity so bright, he would have done anything to protect it from being snuffed out by the ways of their world.

They had both changed, to be sure, but those parts of themselves were still there. This was how they ought to have been, not against each other or painfully, neutrally distant, but close and comfortable and content in this present moment, even after – especially after - the worst of their defeats and disappointments.

With that thought in mind, sleep beckoned for Vash to return to its calm embrace.

Feeling safe and strangely satisfied, he closed his eyes and began to drift off once more.

If Roderich's arm found its way across his waist during the night, and if the two nations shifted close enough for Vash to nuzzle into the musician's chest, there could be logical reasons to explain that away.

To be fair, it was cold.

But the exceptionally gentle kiss Vash left on a still-sleeping Roderich's brow in the morning was strictly uncalled for.

If this is weakness, I will allow it.

Even a neutral nation had to give in to impulses now and then.

Ende

AN: I needed some simple fluff with these two, and it turned into eight pages of feels. I really don't know, guys.