Hetalia One-Shots

Birthdays (Poliet)

Birthdays were the fucking worst.

The Lithuanian man trudged through the muddy streets in his sopping wet suit in the pouring rain mentally cursing every deity in existence for the curse that seemed to strike him every year on this supposedly special day. Literally every year there was something. When he was six it was chicken pox, when he was eight he broke his arm and spent the entire day in the hospital, when he was thirteen he had really bad acne (the pictures would forever plague him), when he was seventeen his grandmother died, and this yearly nightmare still continued. Every year it just seemed to get worse and worse to the point he was convinced that if the trend continued either he was going to end up dead (there were already a few really close calls in his teen years) or the world was going to end.

Though, some small (very, very small) optimistic part of himself that somehow survived into adulthood had held onto the hope that this year would somehow be different. He should've guillotined it when he had the chance. It would have saved him the disappointment of this shit-fest of a day. Instead he spent the morning of his twenty-ninth birthday rushing to get ready for work because a power outage during the night had fucked with his alarm clock (Feliks was probably pissed that he didn't say goodbye as well), on the way to work he realized that his phone was dead, but only after his car broke down on the side of the road. So he had no phone to call for help and he was late for work. Although he did eventually get saved. It just happened to be by his least favorite person.

Well, one of them at least.

The arrogant albino seemed to go on and on (never in his life had he heard such a gross overuse of the word 'awesome') about himself and what a brilliant engineer he was and how stupid Toris was for not paying attention to the 'check engine light'. After the car was running again he headed to work--breaking more than a few speed limits in the process. And managed to land himself a ticket. When he finally arrived at his shitty job he was two hours late. His head was pounding and his stomach was tied in knots and the churning mixture of stress and anxiety at what his insane boss was going to do to him for showing up late made him consider jumping out the nearest window.

And here he was now. Walking down a rainy street without an umbrella because his car had broken down again (brilliant engineer his ass) plagued by the constant thoughts that he was twenty-nine and still trapped at the job he hated with a boss he hated more. But what else could he do? He had no other aspirations, no passions that would push him into a fulfilling career that wouldn't make him dread getting up every morning. It was terrifying in a way. He was almost thirty and he still wasn't sure what he wanted to do with his life.

Thunder boomed in the distance.

Great. Just fucking great.

A car rushed down the road splashing his already wet clothes with the muddy sludge on the side of the road.

He probably looked like a madman as he entered his apartment building. Soaking wet and disheveled while carrying around a downright murderous aura. He got more than a few sideways glances and hairy eyes from his neighbors as he walked into the lobby dripping wet and filthy. Although, he knew that for some of them it wasn't his appearance they were upset about it was more about his 'lifestyle'. 'Lifestyle' both meaning he was gay and his boyfriend happened to be extremely loud and generally inconsiderate of the fact the walls and ceilings were paper thin.

Feliks. He smiled. The best part of his life. He was a ray of  (much needed) sunshine who came into his life six months ago at a gay bar his friend had dragged him to. Their chemistry wasn't instant but at the same time once they became friends he couldn't picture life without him. And he never wanted to. A warm tingly sensation filled his chest at the memories that bursted to life behind his eyelids. They were so close now it was like they had known each other all of their lives. He still couldn't believe they'd only been dating about four months. 

He was broke out of his blissful reverie when he walked face first into a wall.

He half expected the elevator to get stuck on the way up (thankfully it did not) and by the time he got to his apartment he was ready to collapse and sleep the rest of this miserable day away. That was until he opened the door.

There he found Feliks sprawled across the bed wearing black lingerie, his eyes traced the black guarder strips to the corset to the bright red bow tying the outfit together like some sort of obscene present he was dying to unwrap. "You're late Toris," Feliks smirked, "But don't worry I'll still let you unwrap your present." He gently tugged at the edge of the red ribbon while a playful light sparkled in his boyfriend's green eyes.

Toris took everything he originally thought about this day back. Maybe for once, his birthday wouldn't be so bad.

Author's Note: I know it isn't Lithuania's birthday today but I'm trash and I love this pairing.