🌻 rusger oneshots | countryhumans 🌻

8 | germans like drawing bro pt. 2

🇩🇪: male
🇷🇺: male
fluff
lots of simping in this oneshot
(sorta? they gave me the idea) requested by @DatGerman  <3
————

    his hand was working swiftly.
    a twirl here, a gentle touch there. the brush glided across the canvas, mixing colors and creating texture. the painting consisted of only three colors. his colors.
    white paint was scattered around the canvas, adding touches of it for the appropriate shading, and for combining the colors. the white, which was usually interpreted as a dull and plain color, stood for a great cause.
    germany never painted without meaning. he never used colors that didn't apply, that didn't have a reason to be there. white stood for nobility. the aryan thought of his companian and smiled at his bravery, and for always fighting for what he believed in. he admired him so so much. his childhood friend had evolved into a perfect being.

    blue. blue indicated shadows in the painting. bits of it was plastered around it, shading and giving the portrait a new tone, a new personality. the tall country was the most honest person he knew. he was sometimes brutally honest, but that was still a good thing in germany's eyes. blue for having faith. blue for being loyal. blue for impeccability.

    red. there had been a lot of red in the german's past. he used to like the color, now he doesn't as much. but he pushed his thoughts aside for this. red had a history. red was blood in past wars, but red was also love. red was generosity and courage. red symbolized the traits in him that germany admired most. he made sure to have the red perfect. his hands could not be shaky. he would simply brush, rubbing the paint of the soft bristles, coated in color.

    the painting was abstract.
    unfortunately for the small country, his hands were indeed shaky. his lines weren't smooth. the brush strokes were short, not quite allowing the three colors to blend in.
    germany stared at it in thought, wondering what he could do to make it look better.
    but it was already too late in the process. moscow had been painted, yet something was missing. he couldn't figure out what.

     suddenly, it came to him. how had he not realized?
     he was missing snow. one of russia's most well known traits. he plopped his paintbrush in a cup filled with water and took out a small, more slender one.
     detail was important. he smoothed out the white paint on the canvas, twirling the brush and drawing out each individual snowflake.
    finally, it was ready.
    the painting of st. basil's cathedral was finished and perfected.

     "you can come in now, russ," he called out to his friend who had been waiting outside the room the entire time. the door opened in front of him, the canvas still facing the opposite direction so that the russian could not see it.
    "it's about time," his companian grumbled, rolling his eyes and coming to see the painting. his eyes widened as they layed themselves on the masterpeice in front of him. he tried opening his mouth and closing it again, but no sound came out. moscow looked so real. "i-it's....beautiful," he whispered, eyes twinkling in astonishment. nobody had ever created something so special and unique just for him. nobody had ever put in this much effort for him.
    russia turned to his friend, and without saying anything, he pulled him into a long and careful hug. "Спасибо (thank you)," he said quietly, hugging his friend tightly, no longer caring that he had tears running down his face.
     germany gently nudged his friend, signalling that they should head over to the living room. they walked together before the slav plopped on the couch and quietly said; "я тебя люблю" in a quiet voice.

    this took the aryan aback. he did not speak russian, but he recognized that phrase. 'i love you', he had said. germany loved him too. germany loved him so fucking much. but he couldn't tell if the russian was being serious or not. either way, it made him nervous, as he did not know how to respond.

     "i mean it. я тебя люблю, ger," he said again.
    "i-i love you too russ"

      russia chuckled. "remember when we were kids? when our fathers made us angry and we would complain to each other and shit?"
     germany had to painfully smile at the memories. they weren't nice ones, but russia was always there. russia always made things better. "ich erinnere mich an (i remember)," he responded. "do you remember that promise you made? that   we would go to the moon?"
     the taller country laughed, nodded, and then hid his face in his hands out of embarrassment. it was a dumb promise to make. everybody knew that countryhumans couldn't leave earth. it wasn't possible.
     they made the promise when they were young, they could not change that. and there was no way to go to the moon. they could not change that either. but...maybe they would be able to work around it. germany had already surprised russia with the breathtaking painting, now he had to do something for him.

    and he had an idea.

timeskip eeee
  
     "can i look now?"
     "nope, not yet. we are almost there. be patient, you nasty," the taller giggled, his hands covering the other's eyes, so that he would not be able to see the surprise he had planned out for him.
     "okay, ready ger?"
     "ich bin immer, mein Freund (i am always, my friend)," he replied. not a second after, his bedroom was revealed to him.
       his room was completely different. a certain someone had painted his walls black, and sticked on meters and meters of fairy lights. the wall across from had a huge platform, and a background with the colors and shapes of the moon. germany's normal bed was replaced with one commonly used in the space station. the entire room was transformed into, well, the moon.
       he was speechless.
       "i know i can't take you to the actual moon, but i kinda hoped that this would be the best i could do. it's totally understandable if you don't—"

        germany's lips met with russia's. for that moment, the world went slow, dumbfounding the russian. the aryan immediatley pulled out of the kiss, afrakd that he made his friend uncomfortable.
       but suddenly two big and rough hands cupped his face, germany finding it impossible to not melt at the touch. their lips met once again,and this time staying for much longer.
      the german was a blushing mess, and the russian, as much as he hated to admit, was also.
      "ich liebe dich," germany chanted as he pulled his russian into his arms, cuddling him until he couldn't breathe.
      "i love you too, but," russia coughed. "i kind of need to breathe,"

————
1173 words
idk what happened here this oneshot is a mess
was a bit rushed sorryyyyy
hope u liked it anyway doe <33
have a great day xx