VK is for VKontakte

Russia supposed if he wanted some normalcy he'd have pursued a relationship with someone else. Though, that wasn't even a fair statement, considering they were the eternal physical manifestations of the habits, history, and culture of entire nations. So, normal was not something to be had anyway. He therefore supposed among their kind, there was probably a hierarchy of normalcy, a ranking of some sort; some consider he, Ivan Braginsky, to be very low in that ranking, for some reason. This was quite ironic, considering how low he ranked many of them. But, to each their own.

Being in a relationship with America came with many twists and turns; Alfred would say the same about being with Russia. In this way, they complimented each other nicely. Both spoken and innate boundaries were laid out so that they may avoid as many awkward incidents as possible; there were mishaps, to be sure, but at the end of the day they still gravitated back toward each other and worked things out.

But it seemed there were always new things to learn and experiment with between the two.

"Hey, Russia, you have a Facebook, right?" America asked as he adjusted his position against the other's chest, fiddling with his phone while the other read. When Russia's only response was a distracted hum, America retaliated with a firm nudge.

"Hmm?" Russia intoned again, glancing away from his book. "Da, I do. I am not on it much though."

"I can tell." America had punched in his name and was scanning all the information viewable to the public. In truth, it showed a decent amount of activity, though it was about half as much as America's. "I'm sending a relationship request," America informed him, updating his status (up until now, it had merely read "in a relationship," with no designated partner).

With a sigh, Russia fully lowered his book. After some awkward fidgeting, he had successfully retracted his phone from his pocket. Checking the website, he saw America had indeed sent such a request.

Confirmed.

Immediately, anyone online viewing his and America's pages began liking the update, some even writing messages; though, most of these amounted to smiling faces or single words such as "Congratz." Russia smiled down at the bright screen; there was something heartwarming about seeing the simple confirmation that he and America were indeed a couple. In some far off recess of his mind, Russia wondered why he had not done this sooner.

Apparently, they were thinking along the same lines. "We should've done this when we first started going out!" he crowed, also grinning at his Facebook page, thumb tapping away as he liked every comment on his update.

The rumble of Russia's deep chuckle was felt against America's back as the nation behind him smiled even more. "Well, Fedya, the internet was not in existence when we commenced a relationship." That earned him a cheeky grin. "I suppose," Russia mused slowly, considering his words. "Well, I enjoy being online, but I have my own website like this I can use."

That got America's interest. There was an incessant sound of fabrics sliding against each other as he turned to face Russia, eyes alight. "You've got a Russian Facebook? Oh- hey, I think I've heard of it!" The excitement in his voice was, as always, quite infectious.

Russia nodded. "Da, VK. I am friends with pretty much every user," he confessed, glancing down at his phone to log in to that account. "They feel compelled to add me as a friend, though of course most do not know why." A meaningful look passed between the two, an understanding shared only between people such as themselves. There would always be times when humans would feel an innate draw towards the embodiment of their homeland, and sometimes it came out in unique ways.

"I'm getting one," America announced, dropping his gaze from Russia's face with no small amount of reluctance.

Russia blinked in surprise, pale lashes brushing against his cheeks as he did so. "You…are? Are you sure you want to?"

America nodded, already punching in information, until his eyes dropped further still and he saw he could sign in through Facebook. "Huh. That's handy. Hey, yours is in shades of blue too. Good color." The look of youthful approval was hard to extinguish. Russia waited while America finished making his profile; the younger nation let out a short "ha!" of victory as his profile picture was uploaded- a shot of him on a beach with a surf board at his side, looking tanned and lively. America began trying to search for Russia's profile, but Russia beat him to it, already sending a request to be friends.

"Your first friend on VK," Russia purred warmly, his protuberant nose grazing America's cheek, sending an attractive little shudder through the nation in his arms. There was no hiding the satisfied grin stretched across America's face even as he gave a sharp poke of protest to Russia's side.

"Here's a thank you kiss," America said, placing one on Russia's lips. Pulling back, his excitement once more bubbled to the surface. "This is so cool! Now we can show off being together on both sites!"

"Mmhmm." Russia was more preoccupied with the taste of America's lips on his own, a taste he was currently trying to recapture. The phone was plucked from America's fingers and tossed to the other end of the couch as Russia closed what little distance remained between them, breath ghosting over America's skin as he marked every bit of exposed flesh as he could reach. America laughed beneath him; it was a musical little sound that made Russia only crave more.

"A-alright, or kissing," America conceded through his breathy chuckles, tugging Russia down by the scarf.

0o0o0

Russia had not given much thought to the whole website situation at the time. But as the days went on, it soon became the focus of much of his attention. Not long after making his account, America wanted to continue showcasing how together they were by sending a relationship request. Russia was glad America was not present when he received it; America was unable to see how much deliberation Russia went through before making his decision. Without a doubt, Russia was proud of and ecstatic about them being a couple; they had worked too hard over the years for such efforts to be disregarded. But VK was his little corner of the internet to have to himself…and some 280 million other users. While Facebook got the attention of pretty much everyone, VK felt, for him, more private, more personal. He didn't really want to start blurring the lines and relinquish his personal little space.

At the same time, how could he possibly refuse? In his heart of hearts, Russia did not want to refuse…and so it was with this in mind that he confirmed America's request.

That had been the small crack that broke the dam and unleashed a flood. It had been morning when Russia changed his relationship status; sometime in the afternoon Russia had logged in to see dozens of alerts that he had been tagged in just as many pictures. Some were candid shots, others were of him and America together doing various things at either his house or America's.

With a sigh, Russia exited his office only to grab a drink; upon his return, he settled himself down for what was sure to be a long night. The only noises filling the cozy room were of the chink of ice against glass and the tapping of the mouse buttons as Russia scrolled through the pictures. It turned out, Russia's children could be just as fast as America; all pictures he had been tagged in had numerous likes or comments or both. Awe filled Russia as he saw how much attention they had gotten, and in such a short span of time. Licking the taste of alcohol from his lips, Russia adjusted his position in the chair as he clicked through what must have been every picture of himself and America ever taken. America's captions were upbeat and informative, listing the location and approximate date they were taken. Russia felt a warmth fill him that was quite unrelated to the alcohol; a fondness such as he had not expected to experience overcame him as he was treated to a walk down memory lane.

And then, he saw it.

Every ounce of blood pumping through his veins turned to ice as his stomach gave a nasty lurch and his heart popped out. On the screen, tagged with his name so the countless users he was friends with could see, was a picture of America and himself. On the spinning tea cups at Disneyland. In the picture, Russia's eyes were closed in a look of pure joy, completed by the wide smile across his face. Nestled atop his head of thick platinum locks was a pair of Mickey Mouse ears, the black fabric standing in stark contrast beside his paled features. Sitting beside him was America, all blinding grin, with a set of Minnie Mouse ears. The caption below read:

Sorry Khrushchy never got to come. But doesn't mean I can't treat Vanya! ;)

In a matter of seconds Russia found himself on the page where he could delete his account; the cursor was hovering over the button that would erase his page before he came back to his senses. The content feeling from before was replaced in full force by a looming tension. There was no backing down from this now. He would not remove himself from VK just because of some….some…compromising photos. No, this just called for some…damage control.

With this mindset, Russia returned to the long list of pictures he had been tagged in. Aware that his actions were probably signs of masochism, Russia scrolled down to see the response. Almost everyone he was friends with had liked the picture. The comments below were just as bewildering- a mix of people commenting on how cute the picture was, to saying how they went there last summer, to asking if he and Alfred were still together and if not would Alfred like their number, to a few priests offering to help him find God again, to a prolonged debate if "Kruschy" was indeed Nikita Khrushchev. That last one had spawned a thread all of its own, complete with documentary references and images.

Once more, Russia found himself hesitating. Just a few clicks, and he would be untagged; the pictures would still exist, but they would not turn up on his page for all his friends to see. No one he knew through this website would be able to easily see him in Mickey Mouse ears looking more joyful than anyone had the right to be while on a silly ride.

And yet…

The shrill ring of his phone cut through Russia's conflicting thoughts.

"Allo?" he said into the mouthpiece, the cool surface feeling nice against his flushed skin.

"Hey, big guy! See all the awesome pics I got of us?" America's cheery voice came through.

Russia's tongue poked out between his teeth as he licked at his slightly chapped lips. "Ah, da, I did, solntse. You were very thorough."

Russia could practically hear the grin as America explained, "Dude, I was up so late last night so I could find as many pictures of our time together. I thought I had most of them already up on Facebook, but I found a ton more! Not even just buried in my images folder on my phone or computer. I found stuff from back when cameras were freakin bigger than people!"

"I was wondering how you got all of these up so earlier, your time." Russia glanced at the clock at the bottom of the computer screen. Indeed, he had seen the alerts in the afternoon; back on America's side of the globe, it was still morning.

"Yeah, I got a little…overexcited, I guess." It was easy to visualize the sheepish grin crossing America's tanned features. "I refrained from putting up anything from the 1800's."

"I noticed. A wise choice." Russia paused, scrolling through all the immortalized memories, visual proofs that he had been fortunate enough to find such a radiant source of happiness. All the hard work America had gone through, just to proudly show the world he and Russia had spent such great time together. Some part of him never could comprehend how America was so glad to be with him romantically; the one time he let this mystery slip, America had looked at him with the kind of fiery ferocity that scorched right to the soul as he listed all the reasons why. Today, Russia couldn't quite remember those reasons, but, well, he was making America happy, and that seemed good enough.

"You know, Fedya," he added suddenly, once more fueled by an unexpected tenderness. "You…you could still put those pictures up, from the 1800's, I mean. You could say it was from a historical reenactment, or some celebration that let people dress up. We have many of those over here, and I know you do too."

"Oh, hey, good call, babe!" Russia's dimly lit office seemed brighter. "I'll work on that now! Mind if I hang up for a bit? Gotta run to the closet." Familiar with that storage space of memories, Russia chuckled.

"Not at all. I shall wait eagerly to see them."

"Awesome. I'll call again as soon as I'm done. Love ya, gorgeous."

"Ya tozhe tebya lyublyu, dorogoi. Paka."

As the line went dead, Russia reclined in his seat, staring up at the high ceiling of his office. And yet, it was not the wood molding covering the ceiling that he was seeing; rather, Russia found himself easily visualizing countless encounters he and America had had. The range of emotions he had felt through all of them was a testament to man's capacity to feel, and at the end of the day it was a tribute to just how far they both had come. It was something he was proud to display to others, even if they did make him a little red in the face. Because it was always accompanied by a smile. A true smile.

Until he saw America had also uploaded pictures from that traumatizing April Fools fiasco.

THE END

Solntse: sunshine.

Ya tozhe tebya lyublyu, dorogoi: I love you too, darling.

Paka: Bye.