A/n: Not really ChuRo, but close enough XD. Towards the end, I had no idea what I was writing anymore...

Full and round against the starless sky, the moon seemed even brighter and closer than ever before. Like clear, crisp, white wine, moonlight spilled into the darkened room, staining the pristine carpeted floor with its' silver rays. The soft illumination from the moon provided the perfect ambiance and only light the two drunkards needed.

"…and then someone hit me hard on the back of the head! Yблюдок!" Russia exclaimed loudly with his hands thrown up in the air. The translucent liquid in his hand sloshed over the edge of its glass, spilling onto the table.

Unlike his drinking partner, China carefully sipped the baijiu, quite content to stay in his little state of hazy awareness. "And then what happened aru? Did you bash the poor bastard's head open?"

The other nation shook his head, tipping what was left of his wine into his mouth.

Laughing softly, China obediently refilled Russia's proffered glass. The Russian downed that one as well before continuing on with his story.

"I was 'bout to hit whoever it was, but when I turned 'round, all I saw was the pavement!" The larger man roared with laughter at his own clever joke. He lifted his cup to his mouth in celebration but was surprised to find it empty. Confused, unfocused eyes searched the table for the baijiu bottle and upon finding it, knocked the equally empty container onto the floor. China could swear he saw Russia's bottom lip quiver like a child deprived of his prized possession.

"You can have mine aru," China teased, sliding the last of the rice wine towards his northern neighbor.

"Cпасибо, little Китай." The Russian grinned, taking the drink and finishing it in one gulp. It was one glass too many as the room swayed before Russia's eyes.

China raised an eyebrow. "Are you alright aru?"

Cheeks flushed, Russia laid his heavy head on the cool table top with a sigh and waved the other nation's concern away. "I'm okay. I'm sober as a fox!"

"Sober as a …fox? What's that supposed to mean aru?"

A little smile peeked from the corner of Russia's mouth. Even without opening his eyes, he could hear the frustrated confusion in the older man's voice. "Nothing~ I was just thinking that the 'bah-gew'… 'back-chu'….What was it called again?"

Wincing at the butchering of his words, China got up from his seat. "You mean 'baijiu'?"

"Yeah! That wine thingy you let me try. Great stuff. Almost as good as vodka. You'll give me some as a souvenir da? Free of charge?"

China's hands stilled on the refrigerator door, both horrified and a little shocked to hear the taboo word in his vicinity. Free? In this economy? Glittering obsidian eyes glanced back disbelievingly at Russia's prone figure. "You're…kidding right?" The boy must be mind-numbingly drunk if he thought China would give anything away for free. Hell would freeze over first.

"Nope~ Serious over here~" Russia said in a sing song way a man not in his right mind would.

"Hell would freeze and the little demons with pitch fork would go Eskimo fishing aru…and then I'll give stuff away," China grumbled before returning to his task of finding water for the both of them. A few moments later, he sat back down and plopped a bottle right in front of Russia's face.

Russia lazily opened his lilac eyes, a twinkle of mischief in them. "You act like a grumpy old man, but I know your secret~"

A mix of…regret and tenderness ached in China's chest, but by now it had become a familiar friend. China betrayed none of his thoughts or feelings, hiding it eloquently beneath an easy, indulgent smile. "Did you find out that I secretly lace my water with poison aru? Is that why you're not drinking it?" He pointedly stared at Russia's untouched water.

"Nope. That's not it." The Russian furrowed his brows as a thought occurred to him. "Did you put something in the 'bah-q'? I'm starting to feel sleepy. And I usually don't when I drink. You drugged me didn't you?" Russia giggled, amused rather than concerned.

China shook his head, giving up correcting Russia's atrocious pronunciation. "No, there was nothing in the baijiu. It's probably more because you drank more than you should. Now drink that water aru or else don't blame me if you have a hangover tomorrow."

"Nuh-uh. I don't get drunk. Russians don't get drunk off alcohol." He paused. "In Russia, alcohol gets drunk on Russians!" Bursting into a giggling fit, Russia buried his laughing face into his folded arms.

"Russia…." Exasperation dripped off China's voice.

Ignoring him, Russia burrowed his face deeper into his coat, acting as if he was getting ready for bed.

Alarmed, China reached over the table and lightly shook the other's broad shoulder. "Hey, don't fall asleep here aru. Go back to the hotel."

"Don't bother me," Russia muttered, slapping China's hand away, "I'm sleepy. If you didn't want me to sleep here, you shouldn't have drugged me."

"I told you I didn't put anything in the damn baijiu, you damn drunk!" China said indignantly, "Now get up aru. I'll take you back to your hotel room."

China rounded the table and put one of Russia's arms over his shoulders. "Come on aru," the small, lithe nation grunted from effort, "Stand up!'

"Why~?" Russia dared whine, "I wanna sleep here!" He wrapped his arms around China, leaning all of his weight into him. "I don't wanna go. Don't make me go!"

"Wha-" China stumbled at the unexpected heavy body thrown his way. Although he was not as intoxicated as Russia, the rice wine had slowed his reaction time. He fell, tripping over the sofa and bringing Russia down on top of him. Crushed beneath the larger man, China gasped desperately for air. "Ru-Russia! Get off me. C-can't breathe aru."

Oblivious to the other's discomfort, Russia snuggled closer and buried his face into the crook of the smaller man's neck. For a delicate moment, China was paralyzed by the gentle, even breath playing against his skin. He couldn't control the slight tremble that travel downed his body. His body was honest where his mind and mouth were not. He knew it wasn't due to fear or rage at the liberty Russia was taking. It was for a different reason altogether; one he couldn't rid himself of. Not when Russia was so close. "G-get off me, Russia." China shoved him hard. He'd hide it. Lie at all cost and bury it in the deepest part of himself. "Get off me now aru!"

"Why are you so mean to me~?" Russia hiccupped, "You're not nice at all. Not like China." The Russian nestled closer to his companion, his downy, soft hair tickling the bottom of China's chin. "It's a secret so don't tell him 'kay? China's a really nice guy….He tries to hide it, but he's actually kind and caring…." Russia's voice started to dwindle down to a whisper. "Really nice...I'm glad we're...friends..."

China swallowed hard, refusing to acknowledge the body cuddled up next to him but instead kept his eyes resolutely on the white, blank ceiling above. "Iv…Russia. I'm not a nice person. I'm not nice at all aru."

A light snore answered him. Despite himself, a smile tugged at China's lips. Unthinkingly, his hand reached forward, just barely caressing the snow white cheek. People have often described Russia- the old and the new- as a brute of a man. Leaning more towards the robust side, no one could say he was 'beautiful'. His nose was much too large, and his eyes often sharp and cold.

A lock of hair fell across Russia's eyes. Tenderly, China combed it back, taking the chance to run his fingers through the thick blond hair. Reflecting the moonlight, it was like silver liquid kissed by the twilight sun. Long lashes of the same liquid color cast a shadow over the high cheek bones, almost tempting China into a butterfly kiss.

China stared at his hand laid gently over Russia's cheek. His hand was already porcelain white and yet Russia was even a shade or two lighter. He had no color save for his piercing violet eyes. But what would seem like a sick pallor on others, suited Russia. Seeing him walk- no, glide- through the halls with the equally pale-skinned Belarus, reminded China of a story France told him: The procession of Fairy King and his Winter Court.

China smiled at the wanderings of his mind. He could lie to the world, never utter the forbidden word, but it was agonizingly obvious to him. His fanciful words, his colorful descriptions were of a man in love. To others, yes, perhaps Russia wasn't a pretty little thing but there were no others China's heart broke for. China cupped the back of Russia's head, giving in at last. As many poets wrote, love was blind. Leaning in, brushing their lips and stealing a kiss from the sleeping Fairy King, China didn't think so. Other simply never took the time to notice.

His body vibrating from barely contained joy, China sighed from contentment. Russia was a rare delicacy few could appreciate. They never got past the lonely smile, the tearful eyes. China was the only one. The only person that Ivan loved….

A name was murmured endearingly…and China stopped breathing. His chest contracted, squeezing his lungs, his heart. He couldn't breathe and this time it wasn't from the Russian's weight. He welcomed the warmth that seeped into his skin, the fragrant of pine and spices that defined Russia surrounding him.

Easily as it came, China once again locked away the anguished feeling behind numbed sadness and nostalgia. He cradled the blond head in his arms, preciously…lovingly. His eyes dark and calm as the depthless sea shifted from the sleeping face to stare at the night sky in contemplation.

When he casually invited Russia over for a drink after the meeting, he knew he was inviting himself to heartache; anticipated it even. Russia had called him kind without knowing his ulterior motive. They were 'friends' he said. China laughed softly without humor. He got what he wanted though didn't he? He was alone with Russia at last. As an unexpected bonus, he was even sleeping in his arms again.

China closed his eyes, resting his cheek upon the top of the Russian's head. How bittersweet it is to have him so near, exchanging warmth with their bodies, and yet he could be so out of reach. China knew how fruitless it was, how pointless. What was he doing? This helpless pining for a man he could never have. He felt even more pain and emptiness than before, pretending they were lovers even though it was his own delusion all along. He didn't even want to stop the yearning. The desperate strength of his want was the only frail link between them. Russia…was in love with someone else, whispering their accursed name even in his sleep.

China sighed, tired. So very tired. Perhaps he was more affected by the wine than he thought. Silly him. He was reminiscing and longing for the distant past. He remembered the way sometimes they would cuddle together for warmth and Russia would murmur his name with just as much tenderness and affection. China never knew how much he treasured those moments until he lost it all to someone else.

Was it fate that was cruel to him or was it some sort of retribution? Back then, when he was still weak and divided, he needed a protector; someone to help him get back on his feet. It could have been anyone and he would have crawled to them. Russia was just conveniently there. China did what was needed to be done, got what was necessary and then was to leave.

He had never planned to fall in love.

Russia…was exactly the way he thought he was: childish, immature, and demanding. Their earlier alliance proved that he was an imperialist bastard just like the rest of them. His unconcealed resentment didn't deter Russia's strange obsession with him though. Annoyingly, it made him even more determined. He began visiting at odd hours, popping out of the most unexpected places. On occasions, Russia even broke into his home and ate his food without permission. Irritating, selfish Russia. He should've known better than to rely on him! He got into his head that China actually wanted to become one with him. Ridiculous.

But it was thanks to that absurd thought of his, that he came when China needed him most. Unconditionally, he sent his men to protect and serve his 'little Yao'.

"Why aru?" China had asked after his land had been reclaimed.

"Because I want you!" Russia replied without hesitation.

China wrinkled his nose, surprised to find himself a little…disappointed in the answer. "I'll never become one with Russia aru. Even if I'm weak and overpowered by you…you cannibalistic nations, I'm still sovereign! I won't die that easily!"

"Why would I want you dead?" Russia cocked his head in puzzlement. "You can't become one with Russia if you're dead silly, Yao."

China puffed up in an attempt to make himself look more intimidating. "You want to absorb China don't you? Well, sorry to inform you aru, the only way that'll happen is over my dead body! And stop calling me Yao! I never gave you permission for that!"

"Yao." Russia ignored his wishes, reaching a hand up to stroke the defiant face with the back of his hand. "I do want China…but what I want more is you."

"I am China and China is me," The Chinese man said stubbornly.

Smiling impishly, Russia shook his head. The hand he used to caress China's face took hold of the shimmering ebony hair and lifted it to his lips. Teasing lavender eyes- eyes that often held mischief- captured China's attention and held it. "You are China, yes. What I want, though, is the man named Yao. Become one with me…." He kissed the ends of China's hair, beckoning. "Please?"

A flush started from the tip of China's ears before slowly suffusing his entire face. At that moment, he finally realized something. All those times Russia said, 'Become one with me', he had actually been proposing. Russia had been proposed multiple times and he had not even noticed.

"Y-you…l-l-li," China couldn't even utter the dreaded 'L' word. It was insane. Preposterous

Russia finished it for him. "-like you?"

China simply nodded.

"Yup. I like you lots. I really, really love Yao."

China ducked his head, dying of embarrassment. How could Russia say outrageous things out in the open so easily! Did he have no shame? "W-why aru?" China croaked, unable to meet Russia's curious eyes.

The larger man thought for a moment and then shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know."

China's head jerked up. "You don't know? You don't know why you like me aru?" He grabbed the collar of the Russian's coat and tugged hard until they were eyes were level. "How could you not know?"

"Silly Yao. For an old man, you're still naïve in love aren't you?" Russia laughed at him. "Does the reason really matter? You can pick apart love, examine every bit of it and in the end, you'd still never fully understand it. So instead of wondering why…." Russia gave the unsuspecting China a quick peck on the lips. "…You should just live in the moment because you'll never know what'll happen in the future."

Everything happened all at once- Russia's confession, their first shared kiss, and China's realization that perhaps- just perhaps- he didn't quite dislike the big lummox as he thought.

The advice Russia gave was sound. When love came, there was no reason or rhyme. It simply was. Only…China couldn't admit he had fallen in love. Tentative hand holding hand progressed into intimate nights in each other's beds. Still, China stayed silent when Russia whispered desperately 'I love you' in his ears at night. Guilt and self-disgust filled him every time his head grew heady and his wanton body hummed with excitement at Russia's kisses. It was lust, China told himself; nothing more than a bodily pleasure, a carnal need. Once he had sated this illogical hunger for the Russian's touches, he would return to normal. It was not love. It could not be love.

He convinced himself, his heart did not break when they separated. His face remained emotionless as Russia asked him again did he ever love him, will he wait? China walked away without ever answering. Russia was a strong nation. How could China…or a simple man named Yao make a difference? Russia had plenty of lovers and playmates to choose from. Yes, his mind told him, to Russia, China was just another land to convert and exploit. It was reasonable, the truth. However, his dreams where plagued with Ivan, by his smiles, his laughs. Dreams unclouded by logic, his heart whispered the name 'Ivan' over and over. When he woke, he remembered nothing but the lingering feeling of peace mingled with remorse.

The brief worry he felt when the Soviet Union collapsed, the rush of blood and joy that, at last, Russia and China would resume contact were only illusions. He was sick. Ill perhaps.

He didn't admit he was truly in love with the Russian until they met again…and he felt his heart shatter into tiny, little pieces.

"Hello, China." Russia, his Ivan…no, not his Ivan, shook his hand. There was no warmth in his eyes, no humorous tilt to his lips.

The Russia he knew and loved was dead, replaced by a stranger that had a heartrending resemblance to his love. The same face, the same voice…but ultimately not the same person.

China kissed the sleeping man's forehead, a tight knot in his chest loosening.

To this day, China wasn't sure if Russia had been reborn as a completely different person or if he had simply lost his memories of their time together. No matter. Russia had moved on, living his life cheerfully with his new love. Astonishingly, China was not bitter. It would be selfish of him to deny Russia love. Russia deserve someone who loved him just as equally.

Even though China loved him more. However, by the time he discovered that, it was too late. Russia's undying devotion and love had transferred to someone else.

Perhaps it was Ivan's revenge. To be in love and not have it returned was painful. Did Ivan want him to experience the same pain? And yet, if this was truly his revenge, China could not find it in himself to hate him. Looking back upon it now, every moment they spent together was sweet.

China relaxed his grip on the other man's shirt, letting sleep at last take him over. Russia was here. It was enough. He could ask for nothing more.

23 more ChuRos to go (My definition simply dwindled down to "who is pursuing/yearning for who" in order to determine if its RoChu or ChuRo now).

Is the ending happy or not? It depends on your definition and what you wish to happen. I left it in the air because I felt a definitive answer- happy or sad- would ruin the theme of this story. As I said, I sorta wandered off from the goal...but the theme was "nostalgia" or "acceptance". Neither theme truly asks for happiness or sorrow.

Loosely based off Jay Chow's song 'East Wind Break'

Lyrics:

A small cup of separation lament
As loneliness stands still at the window
I am behind the door
Pretending that you have not left yet
Old days feels as if have been revisited
The moon becomes full and I am even lonelier
At midnight the awakened candlelight
Can't bear to condemn me
A pot of wandering
To roam far away from home is hard to swallow
After you left
The wine warms the memories and nostalgia becomes thin
The water flows toward the east
How does one steal time?
Flowers bloom and mature once
Yet I missed it
Who is using the pipa to play
The song 'East Wind Break'
Times and seasons peeled off the wall
And I see my childhood
Remember that year we were still just children
But now, the sound of the zither is haunting
My waiting for you, you have never heard of
Who is using the pipa to play
The song 'East Wind Break"
Leaves of the maple dye the color of the story
I can see through to the ending
I once held your hands walking that ancient road outside the bamboo fence
In this time of desolation
Even parting is soundless