#rusoz

[omniavincit-amor]

Russia/Australia is a very self-indulgent pairing I thought of one night just for funzies and for aesthetic reasons, and man I really want to doodle them! I’ve got into watercolors recently, I might try to do smth…

[d-joana-a-shippadora]

One more round

APH Rare Pairs Week 2018

Day 1: First Meeting

Characters/Pairing: Russia x Australia // Australia x Russia

Notes: This year I’m using some ships that I was going to write last year, but didn’t have the time, rip. Also, two per day, maybe more if I’m inspired. I’m trying to finish the other fic for today. ;3

Ivan was nervous; he grabbed his scarf in an attempt to calm down, and took a deep breath, once, twice, three times.

He felt like an idiot for being there in that bar, waiting for someone whose face he had never seen.

It was Alfred's fault – and, if he thought about it, his own luck. He shouldn't have done that fucking bet with Alfred's bastard. "Damn" was the perfect word for that situation. What a pity for himself, his self that day, having already had a few more vodka glasses, he had decided to place a bet on something he didn't remember well – damn it!

And now he had to meet a friend of his.

He knew almost nothing about him: his name was Jett, he was an Australian and they were the same age. Alfred had said that he had a dressing on his nose – he hadn't said the source of the wound. He should have asked more about the young man, but there with the glasses (and that secret desire to have a partner, be it in friendship or love) didn't remember. Too bad now he didn't know whether or not he was in that room. Until he looked for someone who fit the given description, that is, with a dressing on his nose, but nothing. No one.

He reached for his scarf again; Oh, if Alfred fooled me..., he thought bitterly. He looked at his glass – with vodka, obviously – and wondered how many more glasses he would need to forget that night.

"Ah! Sorry for being late!"

He heard behind him and, hopefully, turned to the person who had just spoken.

"You're Ivan, right?"

"Yes…"

He looked at him, at that big, self-contained smile. It imparted an air of confidence.

And he was beautiful.

Very pretty.

Ivan blushed, not knowing what to say. Jett reached out for the Russian to squeeze as he sat down. He was corresponded, half-way.

"I'm Alfred's friend. My name is Jett, as you should know. "

"I know…"

Jett asked for a beer and started talking about himself, everything Ivan secretly wanted to know. He spoke of his work as a wildlife reporter, of how a giant crocodile had scarred the Australian's face – that surprised Ivan.

"Aren't you afraid that will happen again?"

"No!" He took a sip of beer. "We don’t know what can happen in the future, but that doesn't stop us from continuing. The way to fight is fate – to make our own destiny. "

Ivan was stunned; the convictions of the other were very different from his – the Russian was a pessimist of the worst kind: one who doesn't show discontent, hidden by a false smile. It was the destruction of himself.

He would like to be influenced by it.

It wasn't just Jett who had opened up. Ivan had also talked about himself, about his concerns and certainties about life – that could be overthrown at any moment.

Another round of drinks was paid – and it certainly wouldn't be the last, there will be more others, not that day, but in their lives, from that moment, together.

[aphshippingheadcanons]

Australia usually tosses and turns in his sleep, but when he has Russia over or goes to visit him instead, he sleeps much more calmly. Russia tends to cling in his sleep, so Australia gets held in place pretty much. Waking up in Russia's arms is a much more relaxing way to start the morning for him than tangled in sheets or even on the floor.