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Silver Inches	By : ArcadiaEclipse Category: +G to L > Hetalia: Axis Powers Views: 1686 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do now own Hetalia. I make no money from my fanfiction.

Chapter List
- 2
- 3
Warnings: Yaoi (ChinaxRussia), angst, language, prostitution, exhibitionism, violence, minor character death and explicit sexual depictions ahead. This fanfic is intended for adult readers only.

~ * ~ Silver Inches ~ * ~

Chapter Three

By ArcadiaEclipse

Perhaps my growing affection for the Russian was weakening me to the core, but I did not much appreciate being woken by one of my comrades at dawn for the next round of battles with my far eastern brother. I was away so long in the company of my allies, planning and plotting for the greater war that besieged us, but back home my countrymen were fighting and even dying every day in the wake of Kiku’s Eastern take on claiming new colonies and imperialism.

Thoroughly unmotivated for the lengthy march ahead of me, I ate a quick breakfast and dressed in my winter uniform, shoving supplies hurriedly into my bag and grumbling as I packed.

“Need I point out that watching your lover go off into battle and not so much as lifting a finger to aid him is a really bastard thing to do, Ivan?”

“I couldn’t agree with you more, comrade. Next time try to schedule your wars with a nation to whom I am not currently bound by a peace agreement.” He smirked but the gesture softened slightly as powerful arms wound around me from behind before I could escape his company. I must be out of my mind to share such a tender kiss with this man when he was doing absolutely nothing to aid me in fighting off the Japanese menace. “Be strong, soldier. A man defending his homeland always has the upper hand in battle so long as he protects that which he loves the most.”

His embrace was warm and comforting but my soldiers were waiting for me outside to lead them to victory and I could not spare the minutes it would take to spread the Russian on my bedroll and claim his body yet again. Ultimately, I left his embrace sexually frustrated but with my heart at ease after a lingering kiss that spread warmth through every inch of my body before pooling in my chest. No matter what befell me in battle I knew that there would be someone worth returning home to after all was said and done.

Our journey to the east was long and tiring, but far worse was the pain and anguish awaiting us at Honda’s doorstep. Chiang had sent his own men from the new capital at Chongqing to bolster our attack, but these soldiers were very young and inexperienced, barely more than children, and I was not surprised to note in the aftermath of our battle that a majority of the bodies belonging to my Chinese brethren were in fact his supporters now littering the blood-strewn soil beneath my feet. There was no point in being bitter that the Kuomintang thought they could win this war by force of numbers alone, sending the most inexperienced young men to try their luck against the battle-hardened Japanese. In the end, Chiang’s soldiers would fight and die, but my own would only grow stronger, wiser and one day the Republic’s champion would cower at our feet while comrade Mao showed all the world what glory there was in being born Chinese.

Defeat did not sit well with me, but if Chinacould endure four thousand years of inept emperors, Western occupation and even the Opium Wars then there was nothing that could destroy my homeland, not even Honda’s cold and calculated invasion. Having fled the scene of our unsuccessful battle, I led my comrades for hours without pause until we were too weary to continue onwards, stopping just before daybreak for a few hours rest. Many of my soldiers were injured, and for their sake I left camp to wander a short distance through the brush keeping a vigilant eye out for anyone that might be following us.

I half expected the come across a Japanese scout or one of Chiang’s men turned spy for enemy forces. My shock upon discovering Gilbert Weillschmidt hiding in the trees was immeasurable. What in the world had compelled the Prussian to venture into my homeland in the middle of this war?

“Look, I know what you’re thinking,” Gilbert raised both his hands in unarmed submission, “but I’m not a spy, I swear. Ludwig kicked me out, he…he doesn’t even recognize me anymore. He won’t speak to me or even look at me, it’s like they’ve fucking brainwashed him!”

Slowly I lowered the barrel of my gun and regarded the younger man carefully.

“Who has?”

“The fucking Nazis! They’ve filled his head with bullshit and now all he can do is talk about Hitler’s last great speech at the Reichstag or some quote from ‘Mein Kampf’. He let that fucking douche stick his puppet Vice Chancellor What’s-His-Face in charge of my country and now Göring’s having a field day with the whole damned police force under his control. I barely made it out alive!”

“I am sorry. I know it is difficult.”

“The fuck you do! You have no idea what I’m going through. My own brother is trying to kill me, Yao. My brother!”

“Prussian,” I growled at him low enough to make the red-eyed man shut up and watch as I tugged my sleeve back exposing the bloodied gauze from a quickly-dressed shrapnel wound that Kiku had inflicted earlier upon my forearm. “I understand what you are going through. More than you’ll ever know.”

The ensuing silence felt thick and heavy in the pre-dawn air, but although we shared a commonality with our siblings having betrayed us both we were nothing alike. No, Gilbert’s expression was that of a man who had given up on the world entirely, distraught and on the verge of frustrated tears. I, on the other hand, would battle and die before I shed tears for a brother that only wanted me to suffer. He was weakened, but Gilbert was still alive and healthy for the most part.

He must have seen the corner of my lips twitch upwards or the seemingly misplaced glint in my eyes. Seconds before I could tackle him the Prussian whirled about and grabbed a gun from his thigh holster, firing upon me without hesitation right as I leapt upon the younger man and fought to restrain him. Gilbert might be emotional, but the Prussian grappled with me for his weapon while cursing fluidly in any mix of languages I didn’t care to learn. I was nothing if not resourceful, however, and I ultimately succeeded in bracing his weapon against my good arm while grabbing a nearby rock, slamming it into his temple repeatedly until Gilbert lay unconscious beneath me in the brush.

Tying him up and dragging him with me over the rough terrain was a sizeable burden, but one that I carried without complaint. Although Gilbert was weak and had given up on himself, perhaps he could still help me in the end. Whether he wanted to or not, he would help me.

Two days of travel ignoring the gunshot wound to my knee courtesy of Gilbert’s last valiant struggle had me dazed and exhausted nearly to the point of collapse by the time that we arrived back in Guangzhou. More than food or a hot bath I longed to see my Russian lover again and grow drunk on his sexy voice and deep kisses. Perhaps my fondness for him had devolved into something of an obsession but I could see no harm in my yearning for his company after days spent in transit and on the battlefield.

An ink-colored sky crested in stars was the backdrop to my return home around midnight, long after my lover had fallen asleep on my bedroll. Ivan was normally a heavy sleeper but my movements first in the bath then drawing fresh clothes from my dresser must have roused the Soviet from his slumber. I sat beside him on the blankets but kept my pant leg rolled up for now to avoid any additional bloodstains as I had seen more than enough gore in this century to last me a dozen lifetimes.

Although I remained exhausted, my wound had already been left unattended for far too long and I found myself wincing as I set about patting it clean. I was still mildly surprised when Ivan took the tweezers and antiseptic from my fingers to assist but ultimately hesitated a few centimeters away from my wound as if something did not sit quite right with him.

“What is it?”

“…How is our little Prussian friend doing?”

My throat felt suddenly dry and not a word passed my lips as I grimaced and watched Ivan carefully begin to extract the small bullet from just above my knee. The blood had slowed considerably since the little bastard shot me originally, but now that the wound was reopened it seemed to be flowing faster again. Biting back my pain, I watched as Ivan cleaned the wound and put pressure just above it in an effort to slow the blood loss while his free hand dug through my medical supplies for a needle and thread.

“How did you know it was him?”

Ivan just offered a wry smile and tugged up one of his own pant legs just above the knee to show a very old scar nearly in the same location as my own wound.

“His tactics haven’t changed much in the last hundred years, though why he remains such a proponent of those old-fashioned needle guns I’ll never know.” He grinned but the expression was lost on me as I deigned to watch him stitch my flesh back together. “The little bastard still likes to aim for kneecaps I see.”

I chuckled.

“Gilbert sends his regards.”

“Does he really?”

“No and I suspect he never will.”

I winced as the needle pierced my skin but this pain was hardly enough to complain of given the puncture wound that my lover was attempting to close with his careful stitches. I opted to keep myself occupied with words rather than focus on the cinching of my flesh if for no other reason than I was sick of seeing blood today.

“Ludwig has betrayed him. I knew that the German’s head was not quite right with all this talk of ‘Lebensraum’ and internment camps but I never actually believed that he would betray his own blood brother. His Nazi brethren have ousted Gilbert entirely from his homeland and Ludwig refuses to acknowledge the Prussian anymore. I take it as proof that religion is a waste of time. No god would be cruel enough to remain by the wayside while the bonds between brothers crumble and fail.”

“How is your brother by the way?”

I doubt my ensuing glare could have been more poisonous.

“Kiku is quite well having thoroughly kicked my ass in battle two days past,” I growled at him. “No thanks to you.”

“I pick and choose my enemies, comrade.”

“I am surprised that you still have any friends.”

“Indeed, they are few and far between.”

My anger towards him quickly abated in the wake of his soft admission. It was not an easy life that we lived and I could not imagine existing day after day with hardly a friend to talk with or to whom I could vent my woes and growing frustration with this world. Certainly Ivan felt the same way and yet I had never witnessed the Russian approach any of our allies for the sake of casual conversation. Most of the time he was completely ignored during our meetings and the Soviet did not speak up at all unless a question was specifically directed towards him or required his input.

“Have my doctors been giving you medicine?”

“They have. One of them came to me tonight a few hours before you arrived to say that they are ready to perform the surgery.”

“Yes,” I smiled and gently took his hand after Ivan had wiped my blood from his fingers. “Are you ready?”

“I suppose so. I have no one I’d really regret not having said ‘goodbye’ to if the worst should befall me and I don’t make it through the surgery.”

I liked to consider myself an emotionally impassive man when it came to tales of sorrow, but somehow hearing from Ivan’s own lips that so very few people actually took the time to genuinely care about him struck a chord within me. If the Opium Wars and foreign occupation had taught me nothing else, I still learned a valuable lesson in what it meant to be truly alone in this world without a friend that I could turn to in my moment of need.

We were both on the verge of sleep but my homecoming seemed to require some sort of a celebration. Had my leg not been wounded by Gilbert’s weapon I might have been a little more creative with my choice of activity, but Ivan fought off his own need for sleep and straddled my more slender hips, impaling himself repeatedly on my cock before exhaustion took its toll and slowed his pace to barely more than a crawl. Even tired as he was, the Soviet rocked upon my shaft languidly until I stilled his hips with my hand and instead drew his body down to my side so we could sleep curled together. Neither of us had orgasmed and yet it hardy seemed important. Tomorrow was another day to rekindle these feelings that I harbored for him.

Upon awakening the next morning, I fought the urge to rouse Ivan and continue our sex if for no other reason than it made me smile to see the peaceful expression on his face as he slumbered. Instead, I dressed in silence and made my way down the hallway and into a far room where the Prussian was being held captive against his will. I would have been more surprised had Gilbert not been glaring daggers at me as I approached the red-eyed Prussian, but I didn’t much appreciate when my captive snarled and spit at me boldly between livid curses.

“Fuck you, Yao! You think just cuz he’s not speaking to me my brother’s gonna just leave me hostage in your fucking shit hole of a country?” His eyes nearly glowed with unrestrained malice while his facial expression exuded Gilbert’s customary smugness mixed with a hint of arrogance. “I hope you burn when he comes for me and I really fucking hope he lets me watch you suffer.”

My sudden and decidedly dark chuckle gave the younger man pause as I approached and crouched before him with an icy smile on my face. It wasn’t very often that the others saw my colder, more calculating side and Gilbert seemed taken aback enough that the Prussian finally shut up.

“There is one very blatant flaw in your thought process, Gilbert. Would you like to know what that is?”

“Go to Hell!”

“I’ll take that as a ‘no’.” I rose slowly, now fully intent on fetching my Russian lover. I was never one to delay the inevitable especially when Gilbert continued to cuss and struggle like a captive beast.

“You can’t keep me here! Ludwig will come to his senses, you’ll see! He’ll destroy all of Chinaif he needs to! My brother’s gonna save me! You’ll see!”

“Really, Gilbert, there is no need for such extreme measures,” I paused with my hand on the door frame, but he never saw the darkness sweep over my face and I did not turn to regard him as I spoke softly. “I am not a monster. I will send your body home to him so your brother may mourn you properly.”

“You…” his voice cracked and this time I couldn’t help but tip my head back to look over my shoulder and relish his trembling state betraying that the Prussian was growing apprehensive now. “You’re going to k…kill me?”

“That was the flaw in your plan, Gilbert. It was never my intention to use you as a hostage or to bait your brother. You will die within the hour, Prussian. I suggest that you savor what little remains of your life before I extinguish it.” I watch as first his eyes grew wide then twin tears trickled down his cheeks, but there would be no mercy for my prisoner today and I nodded curtly at one of my doctors. “Prepare him for the surgery. I will bring Ivan shortly.”

Hopefully Gilbert’s terrified screams would not echo too loudly down the hallways as the younger man was dragged up from the floor only to be belted forcibly onto a rollaway gurney. Truth be told, I was not an evil man, and although I reminded myself that this was necessary and ultimately for a good cause the Prussian’s terrified tears coupled with a hoarse litany of pleas for his life affected me more than I would have liked to admit. I left him still sobbing lest I change my mind and fail the one man that meant anything to me in this increasingly unpleasant world.

Not surprisingly, I found the tall Russian awake and in my library thumbing through a few ancient Latin volumes that I kept more as a curiosity than for real reading. He looked up as I entered and regarded me silently for a long moment, but I could easily read the question reflected by his eyes before he even spoke.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yes. My apologies for the noise, Ivan.” Slowly I approached him and cupped his cheeks to draw the tall Russian into a soft kiss. “Are you ready for the operation?”

“I suppose now is as a good a time as any. I trust that you will do your best to keep me alive even if my heart cannot be repaired.” He smiled but the expression held a note of sadness that made my own chest ache slightly. “I will not be upset if my heart cannot be fixed, comrade. For many years I have lived with my troubles and my body has grown accustomed to the pain.”

“You will not live in pain any longer, Ivan. I will not allow it.”

I thought it better that Ivan remain oblivious to my plan, and for that reason he was taken before the restrained Gilbert to the small hospital barely two miles away from my home. Never once did I witness fear or even a hint of suspicion on his face that my intent was to harm him rather than assist, and the younger man even smiled for me as he darned a medical gown and moved to lay on the gurney that was waiting for him in the hallway.

“I had a dream about this last night,” he admitted to me softly as one of my doctors inserted an IV into his vein that would put him to sleep. “I woke up just as the life left my body and..darkness emerged to..d..drown me..in…death. I..n..ever…”

I watched him slip out of consciousness and placed one last lingering kiss against his mouth to wish him well. There was fear in my heart that despite my best efforts the Russian might not survive his surgery, and should he pass away I might never kiss his warm, pliant lips ever again. Pushing down the growing apprehension in the pit of my stomach, I watched the doctors wheel Ivan’s unconscious body into position just as Gilbert, bound and gagged on his own gurney, was wheeled in.

“My sincere apologies, Gilbert. Trust me that I would never have ended your life in such a manner if there was any other option.” I approached the struggling man slowly, but although I purposely kept my gun out of view the Prussian must have heard the foreboding click as I moved towards him and he jerked violently while screaming through his gag. “Gilbert,” I stood behind him and covered his crimson eyes suddenly with one hand to disorient him before crouching and whispering softly into his ear. “Do not fear the darkness, Gilbert. Men like you and I were never destined to live in the light for very long. Be at peace, Prussian.”

For a single moment in time his body jerked beneath my hand, and I allowed myself to drink in the ensuing silence like a drug accented only by the pungent odor of gunpowder now wafting up from the dead man’s body below. My gunshot to the back of his skull was swift and deliberate. I could only hope that the younger man’s pain, however severe, was extremely brief in duration. Blood spattered my jacket like liquid rubies, wet and shimmering in the florescent lights overhead as I clicked the safety back onto my gun and watched the doctors quickly set to work cutting the newly-deceased Prussian open to harvest his heart before it could fall silent forever.

I was nervous, of course, having the knowledge that my medical staff had only performed this surgery before on a mere handful of humans and medium-sized animals, but I tried to remain positive while watching my physicians slice open Ivan’s chest and carefully removed his heart entirely. There was so little room for error; mere minutes dictated the difference between success and wretched failure.

Ever since adopting my Communist lifestyle I was no longer prone to uttering pleas to an all-powerful god or deities that I didn’t believe in, but somehow I found my lips moving wordlessly in prayer as I watched the doctors sew Gilbert’s extracted heart into my lover’s opened chest cavity and fuse the intricate maze of veins and arteries back together. Only time would tell if Ivan would recover fully, but I remained diligently by his side throughout the lengthy operation until the very last stitch was completed and the Russian, although pale, was released to the recovery wing until he regained consciousness.

As the hours passed, I drifted in and out of an exhausted slumber without really resting my mind due to the worry still plaguing my every thought. Ivan’s heart was weak to begin with. What if my efforts to heal him had caused the Russian irreparable harm? What if he remained as he was, sleeping and forever unaware of his existence and all because I was too selfish to simply tinker a bit with his own heart, opting instead to remove the defective organ from his chest completely? Why did I feel such a compelling need to bestow a new one upon him without my comrade’s knowledge?

Self loathing quickly outweighed my mounting worry, but before I could grow completely disgusted with myself for possibly killing my lover, Ivan suddenly stirred on the bed and I was instantly moving to sit by his side on the low mattress. Although he moved very little, the Russian’s tired smile reassured me immensely as I bit back a sigh of relief and stroked the back of his hand tenderly with my thumb. Inch after inch of his flesh appeared drenched in silver courtesy of the moonlight now filtering in through my bedroom window. Ivan was tired and pale but his hand slowly took mine and squeezed lightly betraying the strength that was slowly returning to his limbs.

“How do you feel?”

“Like someone has seen fit to kick me in the chest repeatedly.” My frown only seemed to make him smile, and the Russian gently tugged me down for a soft kiss. “It is good to be alive, comrade.”

This time I too felt the telltale trace of a smile sneak over my lips. Whatever happened between us- whether he chose to leave my bed for good now that he was healed or if he preferred to remain my lover out of some lingering fondness for me, no matter what I would always possess a part of him. The heart that I had taken from his chest and replaced with Gilbert’s healthy one would forever belong to me without Ivan ever knowing that I kept something so precious.

“Will you stay with me, Ivan? You are no longer indebted to me for medicine.”

“This is true.”

“Your decision is your own, but know that I would much prefer to keep you forever as my bedmate, comrade. I have harbored feelings for you for a very long time.”

Slowly the younger man drew my head down for another kiss, though whether it was our last or the first of many more had yet to be determined. Ivan spoke my name softly through our joined lips and my heart fluttered in mixed doubt that he would leave but there was also the token hope that my lover would choose to stay with me.

“Yao…”

I listened with baited breath as Ivan made his decision.

~ * ~ END ~ * ~
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Silver Inches