Rusger Oneshots

Cigarette

Merry (Late) Christmas to everyone who celebrates it! I hope you had an amazing day :D

(I'll probably write something Christmas related later though I do have an idea but it requires writing ;-;)

I hope you enjoy reading!

○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○

26th December 2021

Moscow was still asleep, the snow keeping everyone indoors tucked in bed, warm underneath layers of blankets. The street lights around their area of large houses occasionally flickered when snow blew to the ground, coating everything in white that glowed orange-ish because of the lights.

At 5 am, Russia was up on his balcony and staring out at this scenery, only wearing his usual jacket. His phone was besides him, Belarus was online too, but they didn't say anything to each other. All he did was sit on the wooden floor with his legs in front of him, elbows resting over his knees as he exhaled a plume of grey smoke, watching it mix with the air around him and disappear.

Smoking on a cold winter's day always had something nostalgic to it, for him. Reminded him of times in army school, everyone freezing cold and joking over cigarettes traded for whatever they had on hand today. The end of the cigarette glowed as he put it in between his lips again and inhaled, well sheltered from the roof above him.

He didn't know if the times back then were easier, or the times now. Usually he didn't allow himself think about it, but today was a cheat day of sorts. The cigarette was already a cheat, the familiar feeling of the paper against the tips of his fingers, burning itself away slowly and burning away his lungs.

Today was the only day he was permitted to smoke with no consequences, it was a rule made both by himself and Germany alike. Russia let smoke slowly drift from his mouth, sending it out in a small stream. Just as the last bit of it left, the door to the balcony clicked open, someone letting himself in.

His childhood home had wooden floors, and so did the army school he enrolled in. Germany sat on it with him, on his left, quiet. It was still too early in the morning for conversation. So they simply sat and watched the scenery in front of them, snow falling down quicker as wind whipped around them.

The forecast said that it'll stop once morning actually arrived, though. Russia slipped back into thinking, letting himself remember small things as he continued to smoke. Germany would playfully tell him that the chairs on the balcony were there for a reason. Their instructor in the academy would typically join in with their technically illegal smoking, giving them a stern look but still flicked his lighter as he did so. Ukraine definitely used to sneak cigarettes into the house and smoked out of the window went their father wasn't around-

Russia dug his fingers into his hair, holding the end of his cigarette in between his teeth briefly and tasting the hint of bitter burnt tobacco when his tongue touched it. He caught a glimpse of Germany, legs crossed, sitting like a statue besides him, the only thing moving was his black hair fluttering as the wind blew. His honey golden coloured irises stood out in this bleak dark view.

I can't believe I love him, he thought to himself. It was an affectionate thought, one that he couldn't help think of every time he saw him, every time their eyes so much as met. I love him so much it hurts, sometimes. Although that might be residue emotions still in him, his heart still heavy as lingering memories floated around his mind.

Germany's hand reached out towards him, still quiet. He felt him take the cigarette from between his fingers and bring it to his own mouth, taking a deep breath from it. The golden glow disappeared when he closed his eyes and exhaled, the smoke swirling in the air before drifting away.