My first oneshot, based off one of Korea's most basic personality traits. I've had little daydreams/ideas about this ever since I discovered Hetalia. This starts out lighthearted and gets serious in the second half, and somewhat "limey" at the end, thereby satisfying everyone :D

And for those of you who don't know, Korea will occasionally call China "hyung" (Korean character: 형) which is a somewhat informal way to say "big brother."

I am also going to put my Chinese skills to use…right…about…NOW.

"Ni shang xingqi qu bu qu Yidali ma? You yisi ma?"

"Qu. Dan shi, nide pengyou Deguo ye zai nali."

"Zhen de? Wei shenme?"

That was so irritating.

The day was bright and sunny, with a touch of breeze to cool one's face. The perfect weather. The five of them could have been running around outside together, laughing, playing…and it's not like anyone would see, if that was the problem. And they used to, a long time ago, anyway. Korea remembered his childhood very vividly, how his oldest brother cared for them and taught them and kept them from danger and trouble. He remembered how much China used to loved him, and how he himself used to cling to China's leg, and then his hip, and then embrace him fully because he eventually became both the taller and the larger of the two of them, and then China didn't want him to cling anymore.

Korea had always loved China. He was his first memory, the first person he ever saw when he was a shivering, dirty child on the side of a road that no longer existed today. He had been founded as a nation mere weeks before. He remembered seeing him come up the road, with his ponytail, a red tunic with a jade stud at the collar, and a sweet soul that was completely visible through his eyes. Korea had looked into that soul and decided that he wanted it. It was his. For a long time, he thought China had that understanding, too.

And now he was sitting on the edge of his favorite garden, speaking chatty, perfect Chinese with freaking Japan.

Not that Japan was bad or anything, Korea reminded himself, nibbling a chocolate bar—one of Korea's most popular inventions—as he sat on a bench a good distance away from them. It was Korea's own fault for slacking off in his earliest days, when he was focused more on learning his own language and couldn't handle learning his brother's as well.

Japan had been able to learn the language of his own people, and then China's at the same time, with wonderful results because he was a quiet, dutiful student and China's favorite and the Land of the Rising What-the-fuck-ever and without a doubt China's favorite.

He bit his tongue purposely. It wasn't right to be mad. Korea loved Japan, too. Not like he loved China, never like that. And he disliked him sometimes. Sometimes like now, when the five of them were together at their eldest brother's house, gathered to play mahjong which he occasionally invited them over the play, and now that Taiwan had won (and gone off to phone Hungary about how boys always cheated) and it was almost evening and almost time to go home again and they were running out of time to be together, Japan was hogging all the attention!

Not right. Not right. He needed to leave. Come on, Japan. Get up, bow, say your silly little farewells and go. Korea tried to channel that message. He'd seen in done in countless anime, countless TV shows of all types, in fact, and there was always some truth in every television program, right? Japan must have erected a mental force field—damn, he must have been a psychic-type!—because he wasn't getting up and going.

Okay, this was taking way too long. He'd tried being polite and it had made him sit on his ass and make him stare as his beloved took smooth-talk from another man. Enough was enough. Korea left his chocolate bar for whatever bugs or rodents would find it, and jogged across the pond bridge to where Japan and China were sitting.

They were totally unsuspecting. So much for Japanese ninjas and Chinese martial arts! They'd never hear or sense him coming and in seconds, he'd be holding his lovely China and Japan could be encouraged to shuffle stuffily on home.

When he was six or so feet away, they both turned, looking wonderfully startled, and it was too late by then. China was lifting a hand to smash in his ribs or some neat kung fu trick like that, but Korea had size and strength on his side. And lots of love. And every TV show said, and everyone knew, you couldn't fight love.

Korea pounced and wrapped his arms and all the flowing sleeves that came with them around his brother's torso. China had had enough warning this time to brace himself and not be knocked over. "Hyuuung," Korea purred delightedly.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Japan rolling his eyes, which wasn't nice. Korea didn't roll his eyes when Greece pounced on Japan, but then Greece could never do it quite like he did. While he nuzzled his cheek on his brother's temple, China said, "You need something, Hanguo?"

He was in a good mood! China only referred to his siblings in his own tongue when he was feeling pleased or content—or, or affectionate!—so Korea immediately got affectionate, too, and searched for the hem of his brother's shirt, found it, and dived up under it—and China started thrashing. Aww.

"Stop—stop—I said stop! When people ask you a question you answer, not fondle, aru!"

"I like fondling you."

"Answer my question, Korea."

Inwardly, he felt himself sinking. 'Great job, Korea. So much for Hanguo.' He quickly scraped up an answer. "Well, I was waiting over there to say goodbye, 'cause I know it's almost time to leave and you like your evening time to yourself, but Japan's gotta be an attention hog, and I was waiting patiently for thirty freaking minutes and we still haven't said goodbye!"

Of course this got him a dirty look from Japan, who didn't like being insulted for no reason, but it couldn't be helped now. China had wanted an answer, and Korea supplied one. He gave whatever his brother wanted. That was how you showed love. Eventually, China's bajillion-year-old wisdom would kick in and he'd realize that, and reciprocate.

"Well, goodbye. And goodnight." His good mood must have flashed back, because he moved his non-trapped arm up to hug him, actually hug him, which he did like five times a year.

His fingers curled with joy that he was very much trying to keep from coming out in words and noise. Korea had no choice but to show how elated it made him to feel his brother's embrace. If Japan saw, well then he could take some freakin' pictures.

China's little oh-geez-what-now noise got cut short by Korea's tightening his arms around him, maybe choking him just a little, but he truly couldn't help it. His face sank swiftly from the level of his forehead to the tiny space at the front of his collar that his shirt allowed access to. He had seen better, more response-inducing things done there in his dreams and in a few manga, but he graciously placed only a teasing kiss, which made China's whole body jump backwards a little.

China started to babble, "Did you just—?"

"Yes," he replied before anything could interrupt him. He'd planned just one nice little kiss, but he hadn't expected the skin there to be so soft and so warm, like something meant to be tasted or eaten, and he had always known he would taste it one day so he tried to taste something higher up on the neck, on a more sensitive place, and he felt China shiver under his tongue when he made ready to bite down there and then, "OW!"

With the air of one not pleased at all, China removed the rock from the crown of his brother's head and tossed it behind them all into the lily pond, where it made a splash that sent two beta fish flying up and nearly out. His head was starting up a painful drumbeat, so Korea was forced to put both his palms there to try and steady it. His brother's face was anything but pleased, the opposite of any expression he'd imagined would be there. For a moment he wondered what Japan's face looked like, but he was sitting out his field of vision at the moment and honestly, he mattered less.

"Whatever that was can go back home to Korea with you, aru." he said stonily. "Goodbye and goodnight."

Their position would have made it relatively difficult to wedge himself out from under Korea's grip, but Korea let him go, and admired the setting sun putting red streaks in his fine, dark hair. He wanted to stay and admire that a little longer, but it was what China wanted, so he did.

He stood up, tucked his hands into this sleeves. It was either humble or cute, and China was fond of both those traits. "Goodnight, hyung. I love you." he said with a smile.

"I know." was the not-very-interested reply. Maybe a little more was needed.

"I love you very much, hyung. And I mean in the homosexual way." Behind him, Japan had definitely stopped breathing.

"I know," China said, obviously starting to lose patience. "I'll see you at the Summit next Monday, all right? Goodbye now." And that was that, or so his voice commanded. Since he'd already gotten more than he'd planned, Korea obeyed and trotted off to the front of the house where his rented car was waiting. He turned around just before passing behind the corner, and saw China sitting leaning forward with his head in one palm, and Japan staring slack-jawed in his direction.

In this dream, the Battousai and Spike Spiegel were facing off, and somehow Spike was faster and dodging all his blows. Battousai was suddenly furious and his hair glowed and his cross-shaped scar bled. The darkened, ruined building they were in began collapsing around them, probably due to Latios and Latias using the pillars within as target practice for their Dragonbreath attacks. And why didn't they notice Naruto and the Godaime Hokage running up the walls chasing them? Somewhere in there, maybe on the third floor, he, Yong Soo, sat untouched and observing the battle, with precious Yao asleep in his lap, protected as well. His hair was down, and Yong Soo was combing it with the fingers of his left hand, wishing for a comb, which was of course an innovation originating in Oh my god yes that's it.

Korea woke up that night with a volume of Otomen lying open on his stomach where he'd dropped it as he finally fell asleep, and he grabbed it and a pen lying on his nightstand with shaking hands. He opened the manga volume to its first page, and on the opposite, the copyright page, he wrote a note to himself in large, obvious characters.

That would win the prize he'd coveted since childhood. If not that…not nothing…not that he'd ever stop trying, not that he could make himself if he were being paid to, but it would be a blow that would stay with him for a long time.

But he could cross that bridge when he came to it. Or ignore it till it happened. Yeah, that sounded good. Next Monday, without a doubt, would be glorious.

The Meeting ended after Prussia threw a stapler and it broke the Smartboard. Hungary and Austria took one of his arms and Germany both his legs and together carried him off to be submitted to some cruel and unusual punishment or other. Switzerland and Canada were fussing with Liechtenstein, who had nearly been hit by the projectile; Taiwan was arguing with Poland about Calvin Klein; America was showing off his iPad to anyone who would listen and Korea, after telling Greece the two little kittens who had followed him here were sooo cute, was on a quest.

Saying the goal of the quest was to find China would be terribly basic; he had a plan of a grander scale than that. It required just one sentence. It would blow him away. If he hadn't started for home already. And that just couldn't happen, just no, since Korea had no clue where the airport was from here.

This month's Meeting had taken place in Zürich, in Switzerland's land. It was a homey city with a scenic countryside that China would have loved to see in his leisure time. Except he probably had work waiting for him at home. So he would probably go…to…a bus stop? Which would take him to the airport! Score!

He didn't know where the nearest bus stop was, though. But that didn't matter! If he ran around enough, he'd pass all the nearby ones and make a bigger circle if he wasn't in any of those places, and then take a taxi to the airport if that failed, and wave his arms around so the driver would understand he wanted to go to the airport 'cause he didn't speak Swiss…no, they spoke German here, didn't they? Or French? Korea was so caught up in random musings that he nearly passed China completely by.

He was taking the scenic route, which he liked to do. The scenic route here, however, translated to a rock walkway over which loomed green, flowering trees and lovely outdoor smells. There was hardly another passersby to be seen. The wind picked up slightly and made China's ponytail fly up and his bangs whip and his changshan ripple. He stopped and stared. And then realized that was a really stupid thing to do considering the situation.

"Chinaaaaa!" he called, running. China turned, revealing a backpack he was carrying in his hand and a completely taken-aback face. Korea jumped and skidded to avoid barreling into him. He bowed his head a little in sheer exhaustion and caught his breath for some ten seconds before standing at full height again. China had to look up a little to see him. That twisted quite easily into China looking up to him, metaphorically, which he'd imagined a few times but not as much as other things and dammit he had something important to say right now!

"Another love confession?" China asked, curiously as opposed to in irritation. It made Korea curious too, but no, he couldn't fall for that. His brother was clever and might try to trick him somehow, but a dash of brashness and simply not listening could cut through that.

"No, no, not now." he replied, almost breathing normally again. "I wanted to tell you something, and I was hoping that if you heard it, it, it would make you…um…" Arrgh! Why wouldn't it come out? It was just a sentence! It wasn't true! It was for China. For Yao.

"I'm listening, aru," he said, and appeared to give all his attention.

'Say it say it say it say it say it spit it out come on say it,'

"Hyung…" he began. He looked him in the eye, looked into his soul bared so clearly there. "Did you know that…that the compass originated in China?"

China dropped the backpack. "What."

He said it again. Fuck, it hurt. But it would work. It would make him so happy he'd never have to say this blasphemy again. "The compass originated in China. Also the bell, the horse collar, paper and um, um…oh, chopsticks."

A painful, tense silence followed during which, for the first time in centuries, Korea could not read China's emotions through his eyes. The fear this stirred up in him was unparalleled to being buried alive, to anything he could think of. The words he heard next would lift his heart to the sky or trample it flat. Through the jagged pounding of his own heart he heard, "Are you okay?" China took his wrist and pulled him to a park bench a few meters back.

"I'm not gonna be if you keep ignoring me!" he cried. "Korea, go away, aru' 'Korea, get off me, aru,' or, or 'Hanguo, give me my Hello Kitty back, aru, aru, aru! You—" He slapped his sleeve-covered hands to his face. Puffing out frustration was not part of this plan. "I'm sorry!" he said instead.

China watched him and said nothing. Korea had to continue on by himself. "I—just—wish you cared about me. A little? Not like your brother whose hand you held all the time, but like someone who loves you? Like nobody else in the world ever fucking could?"

China still watched him with his blank, beautiful face, but spoke now. "You'll always be my brother whose hand I used to hold all the time. People don't have relationships with their brothers, Korea. It's sick, aru. It's shunned."

"So what? We're not people! Not really!" He felt tears coming now, but blocked them. He needed strength to finish this. "If you gave me a chance, you'd stop thinking that. I know."

Not a blank face now, but a smile. A sad one that did indeed trample his heart flat. "No, you don't, aru."

The denial angered him. Korea grabbed his brother's shoulders and forced him to look at him directly. "Let me kiss you once. I swear to god, you'll like it." China looked predictably horrified. Adorable. Korea would have liked to kiss him right then. "What, too shocked to say anything? Then I guess you didn't say no!" Korea kissed him right then.

Cautious being that he was, China had shut his lips before Korea covered them and would not allow his mouth to be penetrated and his tongue played with. Having a joyful time feeling the texture of his brother's lips, Korea fell back on old tricks, and snaked his hands up a familiar and unsuspecting chest. His victim jumped a little more than he liked, and Korea had to remove one hand to hold his brother's arm up over his head, out of the way—no, not had to, wanted to. He could nearly sense his brother's fingers curling, fingers cutting his palm, just trying to sit there and take it till it was over.

Drawing back for breath—seemingly—Korea's more devious hand found China's nipple and swept across and around it, which drew not a thrash or yelp, but a slow writhe and a jagged exhale which could have easily been something more with a little prodding. He would make it something more.

They were sitting facing each other, and fairly close, but close could always be closer. With a tug on his captured arm and a push from one of his legs, Korea brought China all but into his lap, with their legs crossing and chests touching. Korea pulled one leg closer, crossing it more, trying to only slightly compellingly force China to feel the growing prominence between his legs.

"Get," China said, with either a convincingly or remarkably steady voice, "away from me. Wh-Whatever relationship…we could have…you're ruining…it!"

Well, whatever his brother said, he sounded too intoxicated to be reasonable so there was hardly a reason to listen to him. Korea remembered in China's home last week, his goodbye hug, how he had been quite close to China's neck when he managed to discourage him with a rock. He continued now. He went slower this time, because he had the time, and China was far too busy trying not to mewl to swat him away.

Mewling made him think of cats. Cats and his brother Yao. Korea, struck by a little idea, licked his lips and then, of his brother, the curve of skin between shoulder and neck, and then a little higher and a little slower, more adoring. China ground his teeth trying not to make noise. He liked licking. Korea licked some more. The hand that was holding China's arm loosened and slid up, lacing his fingers in his. China twitched at this and perhaps whimpered at something below, but still had his metaphorical hands full keeping quiet at the assault on his neck. At last when there was no new place left for Korea to go, he found China's mouth again, unprotected this time, and he let himself in.

Korea's taste buds came upon the sensation of sweet things immediately, and they whimpered together this time. He knew this scene from his dreams; his mind had faked an imaginary taste for him, but he never needed that again. China's tongue was rising unsurely, not to his, but merely rising; he swept his across it and began a game of moving away and chasing and then tasting each other upon capture.

He wished he could eat it, then remembered he had all of the rest of him for that, and smiled into the kiss, their first and longest and the best he'd ever experienced. He then felt a hand in his hair—oh yes—and it tugged on him, pulled him hard to the side. Korea graciously took the hint and broke the kiss, leaving a cobweb-thin line of saliva between them that disappeared when China snapped his head up and pulled on his hair again.

He forced their faces together. China's eyes were hazy and unfocused and the loveliest shade of amber Korea had ever seen, not to mention a tad angry. But did that matter?

"I'm sorry," China said slowly, a little angrily. "Was that all just one kiss?"

Also slowly, making sure to add a bit of smirk to his grin, Korea replied, "Yup. Shall I start a second one?"

At first he got no reply, which was surprising. When he was beginning to go cross eyed China let his hair go and bowed his head—except there was a bugle staring him in the face there so he looked to the side instead, and then let his head felt into his palm. "Ahh…wo bu xiangxin zhe yidian…"

"Was that something about my loving little brother?" he supplied. It probably wasn't—not that he would know.

"It was something about me not being able to believe this, aru." He lifted his head and met his gaze, his eyes marginally sharper now. "I must finally be old enough to go insane. And you're finally old enough to take advantage of old people."

He took China's hand and kissed it. "I promise only to take advantage of you, Yao." He looked over the knuckles at him, eyes less playful, watching his brother's reaction to his true name. "And no one else can. I'll have to beat them up if they try." This earned him an amused smirk, so clearly China did not take this threat seriously, but that was all right. So long as others did. And he remembered to say, "And if you don't start calling me 'Yong Soo' now, I'll have to beat you up. 'Cause people in relationships call each other by name. Unless you want me to make up a pet name for you?"

"That's okay." China removed his hand from his brother's grasp and slung up the backpack over his shoulder. "I'm going home, aru. I'll call you later."

"Really?"

"No, it'll be a prank call."

The point flying a good ways over his head, Korea laughed back, "I don't care!" and embraced his brother as he did back in the days when he wasn't taken seriously. And like he still did, China tolerated this for a bit before tearing him off, or trying to. This time he was on like a leech and wouldn't come off. China lifted his leg and delivered a swift Crane kick, one of the most basic of the swift style, and his only response was Korea making a sound like "Ummphh," before he tightened his arms round him.

His heart incredibly light, Korea nudged his brother's head with his knuckles and dropped a soft kiss on his forehead, which made China look at the ground with the faintest of grins. "You better seriously call me. Or I'm gonna come over to your house in the middle of the night and kiss you when you're not expecting it."

"Kiss like you just did, aru?"

"Yeah, that one, long kiss we just had."

"That was kind of the beginnings of rape, Yong Soo."

"Yeah. You better call, huh?"

"I promise I will," China said. He lifted up briefly onto his tiptoes to kiss Korea's cheek and went on his way without a backward glance. Korea watched him go, aching a bit and alive with bliss a hell of a lot.

Once he was out of sight, he clapped his hands together and promptly said aloud that the compass, the bell, the horse collar and chopsticks totally originated in Korea.

Wow. That was the most hardcore yaoi-thing I ever wrote. Nothing but fondling, really, but…geez. I didn't know I had it in me.

Don't take this too seriously, guys. A lot of it was written past midnight.

Well this took all of my day and stole some sleep I'm gonna really miss in, ah, four and three-quarter hours. But I'm okay with that, since this pairing needs some love (Korea himself ships it ;D) and I worked very hard to get it done. I'm kind of proud also that I made it take place totally in Korea's POV, mostly because he's the seme here, and a lot of yaoi stories take place from the uke's POV (and I honestly don't care too much for China being the seme in this pairing.) And did you notice that Korea dreams in anime? Lolz right there.

Thanks for reading and...have a nice, long sleep tonight. 'Cause unfortunately, I won't.