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🇷🇺x🇨🇵 Behind closed doors Russian Empire x France

Hello!
This is the third time I'm trying to write this now. I am struggling far too much with this, usually this wouldn't have been a problem, but right now I'm incapable of coming up with something good. Anyways, let's try again!
This is a request by: clair_de_lune-
Also I'm incredibly sorry that this took so, so long! And I want to thank you for your patience. I had a lot going on with school, my hand was hurt, which was why I couldn't write and I started another book. And now my original book was deleted.
But now please enjoy my third try with this duo and tell me if you want to see the first failed attempt. Or just tell me if you saw this at all.
It's as you can see Russian Empire x France and set after the Napoleonic Wars, I was thinking between 1825 - 1840 mabye. Don't come at me for historical inaccuracies, I tried OK? I actually did some research for this.
Words: 4120

The night had come. The sky had first turned into a beautiful blend of reds and oranges, but lost its colour entirely now. The pitch black of the night had taken over and gave the stars and moon their time to shine. Splattered all over the dark canvas, creating different images for everyone, who still hoped and dreamt in these times. Everything else was swallowed by the darkness, only to be seen again once the light of the next day flooded the land again. The giant castle was no exception to this. The big rooms and long hallways were dark, only torches and candles giving a bit of light, as if they were stars that had fallen from the sky and by the next morning they would extinguish, like the hopes and dreams of so many. The light of one little candle was right now guiding St. Petersburg through one of said hallways. His steps were fast and quiet, he couldn't have cared less if the candle went out, the palace's layout was burned into his mind one way or another. The guards had woken him up, not daring to go to the man directly, someone tried to get in through their country's open bedroom window. They had discovered him at the last moment and managed to capture him, as he tried to flee. St. Petersburg had worked and lived with the Russian Empire long enough to know that the man most likely wouldn't be in his bed, or his personal quarters, at a time like this. He would rather be in his office, still working, overworking, trying to figure something out that can calm the high tensions at the moment, or solve some other prominent issue that might not even be his. So he threw on some clothes in a panic and made his way towards the man's office. When he finally got to the office door his suspicions were confirmed by a weak light shining through underneath the door. His firm, confident knocking startled the man, half asleep over a map and some other documents and letters on the other side. He scrambled to his feet, straightened his posture and answered with a somewhat firm, still a bit shaken, voice.
"Yes? Who's there?"
"It's St. Petersburg. I'm sorry to bother you, while you're working, but the guards have caught an intruder. He was trying to get in through your open bedroom window and I wanted to know if I should deal with this alone, or if you want to do it personally?" The man's confidence when talking to his Empire always surprised the Russian Empire at first, not one of his subordinates dared to talk with him and be as honest about their thoughts as St. Petersburg did.
"I don't see why you would need my help with-" Russia was about to answer, when his mind cleared from the sleepy haze and the letter he received a few days ago came to his mind again. He stopped himself mid sentence, now giving the other an actual firm command.
"Bring him to me. I will personally take care of this issue." The broken seal of the opened letter and bit of swift handwriting had his full attention now, as he traced the wax with his gloved fingers for what felt like the millionth time, since he received it and broke the seal.
St. Petersburg backed away from the door a bit, his eyes wide and confused at this reaction. Although he knew better than to question the others' orders, that never ended well.
"Yes Tsar, I'll have them bring him to your office immediately." As he was about to leave and fulfill the order, he was stopped by the Russian Empire's voice again.
"Bring him to my quarters. I don't want him seeing anything important. And make sure they bring me the keys to his chains." For a second there St. Petersburg debated whether the other Russian was too sleep deprived to notice how absurd this request sounded, or if this was a test of his obedience. He would not fail if it was.
"Yes, he'll be there in a few minutes." With that he now almost ran back the way he had just come, his candle going out in the process.
The Russian Empire breathed out a sigh of relief, he was never happier about St. Petersburg's obedience to him than right now.
"Oh what a dumbass to get himself caught..." He quietly trails off, as he takes the letter back in hand. It was from France, he regularly sent those letters. Letters meant for no one but the Russian Empire himself, for various reasons that is. This last one however was special, he announced that he would come to visit the Russian. He didn't request, no the man was too much of a proud, overconfident asshole for that, he just said he'd be there, disguised as a human to not draw any unnecessary attention. He didn't have a country to lead anymore, his younger brother took over France after the Napoleonic Wars, and so he found himself with much more free time on his hands than ever before. The logical solution to the boredom that came with that? Exactly, bother your busy Russian lover, that already has far too much to do! Really the man could be a menace if he wanted to. Laying the letter back down, he turned to look out the wide windows behind his desk. The lights of torches flickering down below as the guards holding them were walking, probably checking to see if there was anyone else threatening the palace's security. He raised his gaze to the beautiful night sky, the stars seemed brighter than usual and heavy clouds were approaching. They were coming in his direction and swallowed every bit of the sky, casting a shadow on the world beneath them. One couldn't escape them, they'd consume everything and make it rain for hours without break. He liked the rain, the sound of it hitting the windows was relaxing to him, he knew France disliked it. He preferred warm and dry weather, quite the opposite to what his lover liked. They could never agree on this and it may or may not have ruined some secret meet ups between just the two of them.
France. As he came back into the Russian Empire's mind, he decided to be petty today. A smirk spread over his face and he walked a few meters to the left. He pulled out a few books from his shelf and put them on the windowsill. There, cleverly hidden away behind books, laid a bottle of expensive red wine and two wine glasses next to it. He kept it there, should he ever need to persuade someone, or perhaps just for himself. He carefully took the bottle in his hands and inspected it, before deciding he didn't care too much what exactly it was, as long as it took his mind off work and current problems right now and got him in the mood to meet his lover. Knowing said man, he didn't travel almost 3000 kilometers just to spend some time with the other. He reached a bit further behind the books and felt around for a bit, before finding what he was searching for and pulling out a corkscrew. He set the bottle down on his desk and opened it, just laying the corkscrew beside the bottle, where no important papers could be stained. Then he carefully filled the fancy glass about half way and went to look out the window again. If France didn't feel the need to actually ask if his visit was convenient or not, then he didn't feel the need to be on time. The Frenchman could wait. Just the thought alone, France, disguised as a regular human one might add, kneeling on the floor with shackles around his wrists and ankles. Two guards standing on each side of him, holding him in his place on the ground by the shoulders or arms. Made him let out a dark chuckle, he deserved that rough treatment. He played around with the glass in his hand a bit, the wine swirling in the glass, before actually bringing it to his mouth and nipping at it. By now he was just killing time, time that France would spend kneeling uncomfortably on the floor of one of his rooms. Hopefully his knees would end up bruised. Another knock on the door, far less confident, snapped him out of his trance and made him turn to look at the door, as he answered.
"Yes? What is it?" He more so snapped at the door, than anything else. His annoyance at being disturbed was coming through quite clearly and made the soldiers on the other side flinch back from the door a bit.
"Please forgive us if we disturbed you, Tsar." There was a short unsure pause, as they looked at each other and then the door for any reaction from him. When nothing came after a second, the young man continued talking.
"But we were sent to inform you that the captured intruder has been brought to your chambers, as you wished it, now. There are two guards and St. Petersburg with him. They are waiting for your arrival." He could tell that this was his first time interacting with him, the man sounded like a nervous wreck.
"Good. You may continue with your work now. I will be there shortly." Yes, shortly, when he had deemed the other had waited for him long enough. When he had kneeled in front of people lower than him long enough. After a brief pause he actually got a rushed answer from both men.
"Yes, Tsar." Afterwards he heard their boots clank on the floor as they ran down the dark hallway. The minutes passed, time went on and he had emptied his glass for the third time. A glance at the old clock on his wall told him that he was sitting there for twenty minutes now. He was not the most patient man himself and therefore decided against a fourth glass of the good wine. The clouds in the distance almost stood over the palace by now and the wind was howling loudly. The rain could start pouring down at any moment now. A fond smile settled on his face as excitement bubbled up within him, as if he were a little boy. Finally he set down the empty glass, blew out the candles and walked out of his office in the dark. And so the quiet walk to his quarters began. He didn't hurry, why should he? France could wait, everyone here could wait. If it was him they were waiting for, no one would dare to even think about complaining.