GSLKSGSL WHAT IS THIS, I DON'T EVEN-

It's most likely fail, but I kind of like it.. I tried a new writing style, played around a little bit with sentences, that sort of thing. I'm sorry it's short; This was written a while ago and I forgot it was on my flashdrive and I found it again but didn't have the energy to, so I left it where it cut off with slight alterations. I kind of think its better like this anyway. 8Db -shot-

So yeah. I like uke!Russia. Maybe more than I should, but hey, we all have our kinks. AMIRIGHT? Blame this on my China, who is also my seme.

I do not own APH. Himaruya does. If I did Hetalia wouldn't be as epic as it is.

How strange it is, Yao thinks, how childish his lover can be.

Ivan is a great deal younger than himself, but older than many other nations. They should be the children, yes, but there was something about the way that the Russian nation smiled and the somewhat immaturity of his voice that Yao liked.

It suited him.

Even when China was assertive (though it was rare that he was rough), it amazed him yet delighted him how Ivan cried out his name, told him what he wanted, screaming mantras like the more reoccurring "Please Yao, Please" as he arched impossibly from the bed as the Chinese man listened, and obeyed, pounding into the frame beneath him powerfully. It still sounded so innocent and sweet whenever Ivan said such things and made usually lewd sounds; his moans and cries were nostalgic, as well as arousing. Since his teens, Ivan still made the same delicious music as he had the first time they had done this.

How odd it was, China remembers thinking as he nibbles a well formed chest and shoulders, that despite Russia being as tall and power looking as he was, he was helpless whenever the Chinese man touched him.

He was delicate, in a way. His emotions were paper thin, always on edge, just like a child's. Yao, however, had enough experience and patience to calm him down; like the tamer of a beast, all it took was some gentle coaxing.

And then his skin.

Yao marveled at every touch. Russia had a canvas of milky pale skin stretched over his taller frame, sometimes thin and sickly looking, but other times where it was beautiful. Red against white. Ivan doesn't seem to mind the tiny tokens of red affection that his lover leaves upon his skin, because to him it was conformation that Yao was his, and he was Yao's. Even so, China was hesitant to touch or kiss the blond nation around his especially sensitive, delicate neck, always asking permission first and even then he placed light, butterfly kisses upon the deathly pale flesh, afraid to mar it. He always caught himself staring (one point or another) at the seemingly hundreds of scars that littered Russia's body, especially the ones on his neck.

Ivan would whimper, and then encourage his lover to touch him elsewhere.

China would smile understandingly and apologize before lowering his kisses further.

In a way, Yao liked this side of the Russian. He was cute again. Innocent again. Vulnerable.

Which was what China liked the most.

Short drabble is short. Kind of hinted shota, but nothing major if you don't think about that much.

Review for suggestions/advice?