Disclaimer: I don't own Axis Powers Hetalia, or any of the countries personified within it. I do not own McDonalds.
AN: Okay, my inspiration for this is very lol worthy, in my personal opinion. I was watching the news a few weeks ago, and it said that the McDonalds in Moscow was celebrating it's twentieth anniversary, and on that day, it was the busiet McDonalds in the world. I instantly thought of Alfred and Ivan, and I couldn't shake this idea. xD
I'm new at writing Hetalia, so don't hurt me if the characters are a tad OOC. Whatever.
FUN FACTS::
Russia's McDonald's is fifth most profitable in Europe, after Britain, France, Germany, and Spain... And Arthur pretends he doesn't like burgers! Pffffft!
McDonalds was the first fast food place in Russia. Ever.
When it first came out, the lines were quite literally a few miles long.
Enjoy! (The things I write for you guys!)
It was a cold winter morning in Moscow, and Russia was content, curled up under the blankets he had forced Lithuania to make for him. He could hear the crackling from the fireplace, located conveniently in his bedroom (so that he would get most of the warmth), and he hummed happily to himself. He would stay warm today, and enjoy the momentary peace, as Belarus had planned to go grocery shopping for her big brother today. He would not be disturbed by--
Russia winced as he heard the rough knock from his front door. He reluctantly pulled the covers from his head to peer outside his window. From the upstairs, he could see a familar blond man, continuing to rap obnoxiously on his door.
Why in the world would America come here? Perhaps he wanted to become one with him...? No, no America would never give in that easily (though he would eventually, of course). The curiosity took away the heavy weight of his eyelids, and he threw off his pajamas and pulled on his everyday clothing.
***
America knocked on the door as loud as he possibly could.
"Russia, g-get your f-frozen ass down h-here!" The American shouted through chattering teeth. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other to try and keep warm. How the other nation lived in these conditions was beyond him. The bomber jacket certainly wasn't enough to keep the blond warm.
The younger nation brought his fist down to slam on the door again, but this time, the door swung open. America caught himself mid-swing, and looked up at his would be victim.
Russia's hair was still messy from sleep, but he got himself tidied up enough to be presentable. He wasn't as intimidating when he wasn't expecting company.
"It's quite rude to wake one up in such a manner, dear America." The Russian sighed, a deceitfully childish grin on his face. As curious as he was to know what America was up to, he had planned to sleep in today, something he rarely ever got to do.
"Do you not know what day it is today?" America jutted out his lip in a pout and put his hands on his hips. Russia felt like a husband that had not remembered his anniversary.
"It's January 31st." He gave the obvious answer, waiting for Amercia to spit out what it was he was doing here before he had to force it out of him.
"It's the twentieth anniversary the Russian McDonalds!" The blond exclaimed, sounding as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I was going to celebrate with you!" As much as America dislike Russia, McDonalds was McDonalds. He did this with every country that was blessed with a McDonalds.
Oh. That. Russia was fairly hungry, but he really didn't want to eat at McDonalds. The Russian McDonalds was very similar to the American menus, with the addition of a cabbage pie and a couple of other traditional Russian dishes. He wasn't exactly sure how much actual nutrition there was, if any at all, but it was a good opportunity. After all, once America was his, he wouldn't need to celebrate anything American, aside from their wedding anniversary, though.
"Alright comrade. You are paying."
"Wha-- Hey! I was going to celebrate with you, not buy you food!"
America pouted, Russia giggled, and the two stepped away from the porch.
***
"The Big Macs here are bigger." America stated, almost bitterly as he looked up at the menu.
"Many things in Russia are bigger than in America." Russia smiled, seeing the younger nation take a brief glance downward in his direction. "Whatever. Just pick something!" He flushed. Russia giggled. America was so cute when he was embarassed. Cute and fragile looking. It would be great if he started crying...
"Russia!"
"Oh. I will just have.. It's all gar--"
"He'll have a Big Mac."
Russia glanced over at America, surprised at the assertiveness in his voice. Of course, America was always like that. Nothing new.
"I thought you were treating me?"
"Not originally. I'm making sure you keep it in my price range. A bit tight on cash right now."
Contrary to the previous statement, America ordered much more of than just a Big Mac. Russia could see some of his citizens sweating at the size of the order.
They took a seat, waiting for the large order. America folded, unfolded, and folded the receipt again. Russia couldn't help but ponder if the other nation had ADHD, and had trouble sitting still. The blond's eyes flickered around nervously, and went back to the receipt. Was he nervous.
Russia finally decided to pull the paper away from the blond before he hurt himself. Their hands brushed lightly against each other, and a slight tingle went through the Russian's fingertips. He rather liked America's hands.
"What was that for?" The American snapped, realizing that his receipt was not in his hands any longer. Russia had touched him. Communism touched him! He shuddered.
"It is just a receipt. I didn't want you to get a paper cut after you've gone through all this trouble to get me a 90 ruble sandwich."
America rolled his eyes, and turned his eyes away from Russia. The taller nation smiled, almost innocently, and walked around the table to sit next to the other. He wanted to touch his hand again.
"What the hell?" America pulled his hand back as Russia had reached for it. "What are you doing?"
"Well, are we not on a date?"
"A... What?"
A woman called out the number on the receipt, and the Russian giggled. "I'll get it." He came back, and sat with America again, a large bag of food in one hand, and a relatively small on in the other. America grabbed his Cola and scooted to the far end of the booth. "What is wrong? Did you not invite me?" Russia asked, tilting his head to the side.
America sighed. "Yeah, I did. Just to celebrate an important day in our history, not to go on a date with you!"
Russia smiled. Our was a wonderful word to hear. Especially from a nation that would become one with him, that he desired so much. To have America would mean dominance among the world leaders. Russia snatched America's hand, and squeezed tight. America winced. "What are you doing? Let go!" He wiggled, but Russia would not let go. The beautiful and slender fingers locked with his was too delightful for words. "Eat."
America would argue longer, but he was pretty hungry.
While America stuffed his face, Russia looked down at the burger in front of him. His bosses had always loved McDonalds. He gulped. Whatever manner of evil laid in that hamburger, he would have to eat it.
America looked over at his supposed 'date', and frowned. Russia had taken one bite, and was staring at the hamburger in disbelief. America couldn't believe anyone could look at a burger like that. Especially such a gloriously delicious burger!
Russia took another bite.
America cocked an eyebrow and watched him slowly chew the next piece. "How... How is it?"
Violet eyes turned to meet blue, and America shivered. Those violet eyes were bright and happy, unlike they had ever been as long as America had known them.
"This, this is..."
"Yeah?"
"This is the Pearl of Capitalism!"
Russia pressed harder on America's hand, and used the other to bring his chin around and plant a kiss on the other nation's lips. The American's eyes widened, and all sense of reality seemed to slip away. For such a cold nation, Russia was incredibly warm.
***
Five Big Macs and three Colas later, Russia and America found themselves back at Russia's front porch. Their fingers were laced together again, but this time willingly on both sides.
America wasn't fond of the touching, but too prideful about his acheivements today, he didn't mind letting Russia play date with him for now.
He wasn't a bad kisser either, though they had established that before.
"It was nice to be with you again, Alfred."
America blushed at the sound of his human name. Something he hadn't heard from those lips in a while. "You too Russia."
Russia looked disappointed, a small pout replaced his usual false smile. "Okay. I see you later then, da?"
"Y-yeah." America sighed, his face slightly pink. "Yeah. Some other time."
Russia turned and opened the door as quietly as he could, just in case Belarus was back and would question where he had been. He certainly didn't want that scenario to play out again as it had last time. He shuddered at the thought.
Leaving a date unsatisfied is totally unheroic! The thought snuck up on America and bit at the back of his head. His heart rate picked up, and in a reflex, he grabbed Russia's scarf. The startled Russian turned around to look at him again.
"Unless you want me to keep you company, Ivan."
Russia's childish smile played onto his face, and he grabbed America's wrist again. "Okay. So you wish to become one with --"
"No, I said keep company! My vital regions are off limits!"
The American hissed, and the Russian giggled, and the two dissappeared into the house.
Luckily, Belarus was infact, not home.
AN: Okay, so I think I'm a bit off with the characters, but I tried. Lol. I just had to get this nagging idea out of my brain and onto paper. :'P I listened to Russian music while I typed this. Heehee. As for those who I told can request and have requested... Don't worry! I'll get to them eventually, as soon as things calm down at school. xD BAD NEWS: It's the project time of year. GOOD NEWS: The stuff in history is getting to WW1 time period, so I'll likely have some more inspiration soon. Ha ha. Good ol' history.