Don't Mess with the Vodka
Ivan just stared. How could he not? It was indecent. It was scandalous! It was cake flavored vodka! It was so wrong!
"Yo, Russia! What ya got there?"
Poor Alfred had no idea what hit him, literally. The fist came out of nowhere. The American fell to the floor, blood dripping from his nose. He blinked, reached up, and wiped at the crimson, staring at it in surprise.
"Uh… what?"
"What is this, da? This… outrage?" Ivan hissed, shaking the disgracing bottle at his sorta-kinda, sometimes maybe friend. America looked at it and his eyes widened a bit.
Ivan's anger faded as Alfred got to his feet and took the bottle. He even felt a bit bad that he'd hit his ally. Friends were hard to come by as it was. He considered apologizing.
But all of these thoughts vanished when the American smiled.
"Cool. Didn't know there was such a thing."
Ivan growled, his aura changing. America looked at him and his eyes flashed dangerously.
"Look, dude. There's no reason to get so pissed. It's not like I'm making you drink it. Besides, this isn't even what I came to the grocery store for. So calm the fuck down."
They glared for a few more seconds, until Ivan forced himself to think rationally. He took a deep breath, snatched the bottle, and walked to the check out. Alfred followed, curious and wary at the same time.
Ivan set the bottle on the counter and paid for it, ignoring the clerk when she asked about the blood on him, the bottle, and America.
"I'm going to try it, da. Maybe it won't be so bad," he said. America smiled.
"I kind of want to taste it, too. Could we drink it together?"
Ivan nodded.
"Sounds good, da."