A drunken Ivan carried a hammered Yao to his home. (Since the meeting was held in his country) He opened the door, careful not to drop his companion. When they were no longer in public, Ivan decided to please himself a bit, glancing at the sleeping Chinese man. Careful not to wake him, Ivan lifted him up bridal style and carried him up the stairs.

When he reached the guest bedroom, he gently set Yao on the bed. He began to unbutton Yao's shirt and changed him into more comfortable clothes.

Finally, after getting him ready for bed, Ivan removed Yao's hair tie and let the silky, dark brown hair flow over the smaller nation's shoulders. Looking at him, you really could mistake him for a woman.

Ivan was tempted to touch those soft lips and more, but he pulled away quickly. He could never do that to the one he loved.

Just as he was getting up, he felt a hand wrap around his wrist, preventing him from leaving. He turned around to see a pair of lazy, clouded stare back at him.

"Ivan…" Yao spoke so low it was almost a whisper as he pulled on the Russian's wrist, causing him to fall forward. As he lay there, Yao laced his hands on Ivan's shoulders, keeping him from moving. Ivan blushed as Yao' hair grazed his cheeks.

Ivan pulled himself together and looked at Yao through content, serious eyes. "Yao, your drunk" He placed his hand over Yao's attempting to move them. The smaller nation tightened his grip as he shook his head, his mouth hanging slightly open. "Yao, seriously, sto-"

He was interrupted as Yao crushed their lips together. Ivan's eyes widened in shock as the Chinese man fought for dominance. Yao thrusted his tongue into the taller man's mouth without asking for permission. It was then, that Ivan lost all restraint.

He griped Yao's hair tightly as he returned the kiss, using his tongue to explore the other nation's mouth as he pleased.

Yao's, their lips still locked, began to furiously unbutton Ivan's shirt.

Ivan took the lead as he flipped over to where he was on top of Ivan, licking down his neck, leaving love bites.

In a matter of minutes, they had managed to remove both shirts and pants. Ivan stared at the already sweaty Yao that lay under him. He gazed through loving eyes as he stroked the smaller nation's cheek with the back of his hand.

"Yao," he spoke softly "I love you." Those were the last worlds he spoke besides the occasional cries of names that filled the night.