Hey there, I'm back from a short hiatus. These drabble have been gnawing at my muse for a while now. The inspirations for them came from researching Sino-Russian relations, and browsing through various Rochu works.

This is my little way of helping people understand the different facets of this pairing, and attempt to answer the long-pondered question, "Why are Russia and China even together?" Their relationship is complex and fascinating, and I hope my efforts have painted a fair picture. :) The drabbles jump from one time period to another, and some are light-hearted while some are heavier.

Happy reading!

A beginning

"Hey kid!"

"Kid!"

Someone came from behind and roughly shook Ivan's shoulder, jerking him free from the bindings of a wonderful, yet particularly naughty daydream. He turned around and met his boss, Mr. Mongolia, a tall, burly guy with a volcanic temper. Immediately, Ivan cleared his head, promptly erased all of the previous thoughts in his head about the man's wife, and after a deep breath taken, he managed to squeak, "Y-Yes sir?"

A boulder-like fist thrusted towards him, making the child jump a little. But luckily, Ivan wasn't punched in the gut this time. Scrunched in his boss's hand was a bouquet of pretty flowers— red, purple, pink, and whatever else that bloomed out of the vast prairies. Ivan took them, and stared up at him curiously.

"Go and give that to Yao," Mr. Mongolia mumbled under his breath, and tell him 'sorry', and that I love him, and that he better come back to me soon or I'll make his people suffer like never before..."

Ivan frowned. "Are you sure? It all seems a little pointless to me. I mean, if you're really worried about him, then—"

"Yes! Yes! And if you mess up, no food for you tonight!" Mongolia growled impatiently, sending him off on his way.

Ivan stuck out his tongue, and immediately dodged a striking hand.

Humph, stupid Mr. Mongolia... I'll show you! You don't deserve your big palace, all that land, and definitely not someone as pretty as Yao.

Ivan let out a defeated sigh and walked to the brook, where Yao was sitting on a rock, looking into the water and brushing his long black hair. Upon hearing a familiar voice calling his name, he carefully set aside his jade comb and looked up.

Ivan laid the bouquet of flowers neatly upon the other man's lap, and managed to snatch a good glance at those lean, pale thighs peeking beneath his robes.

"Oh my, are those for me?"

Ivan quickly wiped some drool off his face, and nodded earnestly in response. "Yes, yes they are! I spent all day picking them myself," he lied, and grinned proudly at the fact, "I love you Yao, will you be my wife instead?"

Yao didn't answer the question. Instead, he giggled like a young girl and picked little Ivan up, spinning him around in the air. "Aw, thanks! You're just the sweetest thing ever, aren't you?" He cooed, starry-eyed and blushing.

Ivan nodded, and praised the heavens for having found Yao's weak spot.

For the first time in his life, being cuddled like a furry animal and kissed everywhere actually felt nice. Probably because it wasn't his sister. Ivan accidentally locked glances with Mr. Mongolia from afar, and soon regretted it. He sighed inwardly, and decided that being strangled by Yao's affection was a better way to die. In fact, it was the best way to die.

Bitter

1959

Have you ever loved someone so much that you hated him? Especially when you know for a fact that he'll never love you back as much, making hatred the only logical option.

"Ivan, don't you see? You're suffocating me! I'm not just your slave, not one of your many captives, I'm your lover, and unless you're willing to treat me like a human being, I'm leaving."

That ungrateful whore! How dare he say those things to me, after all that I did for him! If I hadn't saved Yao, Kiku would have just left him to die in the middle of nowhere. I gave him aid, shelter— everything he wanted. I grovelled to his every need.

So what if I'm not as affectionate as I used to be? Yao no longer needs warmth or attention. In desperate times like these, a treasure like him must be shut away, and only viewed by a person who is deserving.

Look at him, so beautiful, but blind as a bat to the never-ending winter the world has descended into, that waits to tear him apart. Only Ivan knows best, Yao, Ivan knows best.

"I gave my family, people, even my own sanity to be with you, and yet you betrayed me and everything we once stood for. I've stayed by your side when you needed me, but where are you now? You've changed so much, Ivan, it's disgusting."

I laugh.

"For God's sake Yao, snap out of it! Surely you understand how dangerous it is to chase empty dreams? It sounded neat on paper, yes, but the paradigm has shifted, and it's only survival of the fittest now!"

"But if we don't follow our dreams, then what are we even doing here? What purpose do we have to continue this farce?"

He's crying now. I've made him cry, haven't I? I'm such a terrible person.

"Don't make me into an angel, Yao, or you'll be sorely disappointed."

Cut-throat

1960

Yao got up and made his way towards the door. The tapping of his riding boots echoed steadily through the hallway, his gait unshaken by their previous encounter.

"I will destroy you."

He stopped. "I beg your pardon?"

"I will destroy you, Yao, squeeze the life out of you with my own two hands. I'll make you filthy and ugly, so that no one would want you except for me."

Yao's corresponding smile somehow made Ivan's heart both melt, and sink in fear. "Go ahead, Ivan," he taunted, "I have all the time in the world to wait for your demise. I've been around for four thousand years, and will be for thousands more. The brightest stars fall first, and when you do, I'll be the first to spit on your grave. Remember that."

Dorks

Every time Alfred walks into a World Meeting, he sees his two supposed best friends whispering and giggling, and cannot help but think that the fall of the great American Empire is imminent.

After the Great Underwear Accident of 2007, Alfred has made it his priority to fully inspect his designated chair before sitting on it every time. He must make sure it's free of a whoopie cushion, clipped leg, or worse, any creepy crawlies planted in the vicinity.

Eternal

Ivan and Yao often joke about how they're going to spend their retirement years together. They've woven an entire fantasy life to be realized when they eventually settled down. Every detail is precisely catalogued, from where they were going to live (Cuba), to what colour their bedroom walls were going to be (purple). However, they both know that when it came time to collect their pensions, the world would have already ended.

"Yao is totally going to love me forever and ever until the end of time, right?" Ivan randomly piped up one day, right before sex, and pretended to cry in pain after Yao rightfully smacked him across the head.

"Idiot, you know I only said that so you'd marry me."

Ivan's jaw fell to the floor. "W-W-WHAT?! After all of that cheesy romantic crap you pulled, likening the eternity of our love to the depths of the seas and stars in the sky or whatever…" He was close to tears. "Damn it, you made me hike up the Himalayas with an ingrown toenail, and—"

Of course, Yao could talk back until his lips were dry, but that still would not be enough to express the feelings he had for his husband. Plus, he knew Ivan wouldn't shut up until he kissed him. So, that was what he did.

TBC

Sooo, are you guys interested? The next installment will come soon. Please review!