Alfred  looked down at the man sleeping with his head in his lap with a tender gaze. He watched the other's chest rise and fall slowly, steadily, in his sleep. Every so often he'd twitch a hand, and Alfred's eyes would snap to the movement, but he'd inevitably still once more, and Alfred would relax along with it. 

He tucked the blanket over the other a little tighter, keeping the random drafts from reaching him and taking away his much needed (and rarely received) moment of respite from the harsh eyes and mouths of the rest of the world. He brushed a stray curl away from his face, and his eyelashes fluttered for just a moment. 

Ivan let out a tiny, pathetic whimper in his sleep, and Alfred felt him curl closer to his own heat, seeking comfort, Alfred supposed. Maybe it's the silence, Alfred thought. Maybe if I sing something for him he'll sleep better.

So, he started to sing. Softly, a voice in a low tone and smooth as honey, he began:

"Vyydu noch'yu v pole s konem
Nochkoy temnoy tikho poydem
My poydem s konem po polyu vdvoem
My poydem s konem po polyu vdvoem..."

He faltered, voice catching on the foreign tongue. I'm out of practice. He took a moment to try to relax his jaw, getting used to the way the words feel dripping from his mouth. His hand had managed to stray from it's spot, tangling itself back in the Russian's hair where it was most comfortable and familiar. I guess I can't stop myself from enjoying the things I loves, can I?

He hummed the next few notes, taking the time to appreciate everything around him. The house was very still; nothing creaked, nothing moved, nothing scratched the floors. Alfred would have though it similar to the feeling one gets when they're standing, alone, in the woods after a fresh snowfall. All of the colors are muted, the sounds extinguished. He could feel how his eyes were wider than normal, drinking in what they have seen a million times before, and were just seeing for the first time.

He continued.

"Noch'yu v pole zvezd blagodat'
V pole nikogo ne vidat'
Tol'ko my s konem po polyu idem
Tol'ko my s konem po polyu idem."

Once again, his voice made to falter, but he pressed himself forward against it. The chords pulled strangely at his throat. Alfred laid his head back against the couch, fixing his eyes on the lazily moving shadows of leaves from the outside dancing across the ceiling. 

He continued.

"Syadu ya verkhom na konya
Ty nesi po polyu menya
Po beskrainemu polyu moemu
Po beskrainemu polyu moemu."

He felt Ivan shift against him, rolling over in his sleep. His head now rested higher up his thigh, and he was facing him. Alfred let his eyes flutter shut, and sighed. His hand moved now to a place further down on Ivan's arm, and squeezed gently, even though he tried to think better of it. I don't want to wake him.

He continued.

"Day-ka ya razok posmotryu
Gde rozhdaet pole zaryu
Ay brusnichnyy tsvet, alyy da rassvet
Ali est' to mesto ali ego net."

He was starting to forget the words now. They all started sounding the same to him, really. He was tired.

So tired.

He unfocused his eyes, still fixed on the beige above him, so that the shadows and the light blended together into a kaleidoscope of shades. Red and green and blue tainted the edges of his vision where his lenses were thickest, and he almost laughed at how warped he had made everything look.

He continued.

"Polyushko moe rodniki
Dal'nikh dereven' ogon'ki..."

He stopped. His hand was now tracing circles in the soft, chilled skin against it. He realized he hadn't been breathing that entire time, so he took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Ivan didn't stir. He realized, too, that he didn't know the rest of the words in the language they sound the best naturally. I can't leave off yet.

He continued.

"Golden rye and curly flax
I'm in love with Russia, I'm in love."

A deeper voice rose from in front of him, and his eyes sharpened immediately. He felt his whole body go rigid. He lifted his head up slowly.

It wasn't he who continued this time.

"Budet dobrym god khleborod
Bylo vsyako, vsyako proydet-"

But it was he that finished.

"Sing now, golden rye, sing now curly flax
Sing about Russia, about my love"

Ivan leaned up, touching their foreheads together. Their noses brushed, and their breath mixed between them.

"Hey," he whispered.

"Hey," came the quiet return.

~~~~~

full lyrics, english:

  With my stallion at night, I shall leave for the fields
By the night so dark and silent we will go
We shall walk together by the fields, my steed and I
We shall walk together by the fields, my steed and I

In the fields the stars are shinning
No one can be seen around
Only my stallion and I, walking by the fields at night
Only my stallion and I, walking by the fields at night

Let me mount my stallion
Take me across the fields, away!
By the endless fields of mine
By the endless fields of mine

Let me glance at the sky
To see where the the fields give birth to dawn
Oh that cowberry color, scarlet sunrise!
Is that place real, or is it not

My little fields, my streams
Lights of villages afar
Golden rye and curly flax
I'm in love with Russia, I'm in love

The year will be good and the harvest heavy
We've been through much, we'll make it through once more
Sing now, golden rye, sing now curly flax
Sing about Russia, about my love!  

i love this song a lot and thought that  the lyrics were too perfect