Summary: America and Russia are given lectures about being good boyfriends. Russia feels he received a disproportionate amount, but America still has one last talk to hear…
When Russia and America made their relationship public, it was natural for friends and family to give The Talk.
America had expected Belarus to let her displeasure be known. Fortunately, no knives were involved. In fact, compared to the Hollywood action movie scenario he had mapped out, their discussion had gone remarkably well. She merely stared at him with frosty eyes and said "Hurt him and I hurt you." Alfred had promised it would never happen. She merely scoffed and assured him she'd be waiting.
Ukraine had taken a more subtle approach. She had invited him over for a homemade brunch- but apparently that was part of making sure the message…sunk in. She had him sit at the kitchen table where he could watch as she slowly and meticulously chopped vegetables, scraping the knife on the cutting board so it made an unsavory rattling noise fill any gaps in their conversation. And what a conversation it was. "I know you will treat my baby brother well," she sat, with a particular emphasis on "know" that let America know there was no room for negotiation.
France gave a heartfelt talk to both him and Ivan, as he was so interested in ensuring all parties involved in any romance were happy. But apart from those, that had been the extent of America's subtle threats from the world.
"Listen, babe," he was saying over the phone, leaning back in his chair so the front legs were suspended too high to be advised. "It's just everyone being hotheads- don't take it so personally!"
"You were not there," a deep voice grumbled. America could almost see Russia pinching the bridge of his oversized nose in frustration, as if he were right there in front of him. "England was insufferable. Why does everyone assume I would do anything to ruin this? This is the happiest I have been in ages."
"Aaaw," Alfred blurted out before he could stop himself. Trust Ivan to toss around those sappy proclamations- and mean them. "Listen, I'll make it up to you, I- hang on, someone's on the other line." A press of the button later and Alfred opened his mouth to say "hello?" And was cut off by a frantic rant.
"Mein gott, pick up already!"
"Prussia?"
"About time! Listen, I need to tell you something!"
"Dude, dude, chill out and slow down. And whatever it is has to wait, I'm on the phone with Ivan."
Despite his previous urgency, Prussia found time to let out a scowl at the sound of Russia's name. "That's what this is about! Listen, you need to be careful-"
"Alright, that's enough of all this," America cut across. "Ivan and I are perfectly happy and are perfectly capable of managing our own relationship without everyone thinking the worst!" This must have been what Russia had meant. Alfred could tolerate the subtle threats and barbed comments thrown his way, but he wouldn't stand for anymore directed at Ivan.
"You fool, just shut up and listen to me-" But Alfred had already switched lines once more.
"Sorry about that, babe."
"More of your fan club warning you about dating me?" Russia said dryly.
America felt a twinge of annoyance. He had just defended the guy and here he was getting snippy with him. "As a matter of fact, yeah. But I told them to back off, cause I don't want you to have to take their crap anymore."
There was a pregnant silence.
"Prosti menya, Fedya," Ivan muttered. "I did not know."
Alfred sighed, running a hand through his golden locks. "Don't be sorry, big guy, I know it sucks." He suddenly felt cold- perhaps a side effect of their brief spat. Further proof that it was better when they just got along.
"Perhaps we should both give Prussia a lecture to let off some steam?"
"Why are we lecturing Prussia?" Alfred asked, taken aback. He lowered his chair back to the recommended position, curling in on himself as the air become cooler.
"Well, he asked your brother out yesterday," Russia said as if it were as common knowledge as the sky being blue.
"Wait- WHAT?"
Amidst his tirade of swears and threats and rude hand gestures, Alfred heard a faint rap on the door. "One sec," America groaned, throughly done with interruptions.
"Can I help y-" he broke off. Standing- no, floating- before him was a silvery figure clad in a long tattered coat. The aged figure commanded a powerful presence despite the weariness of the man…the spirit…the pale lips were turned down in a look of mounting disapproval as his strong transparent hands clasped the doorway, framing America in a cage of cold that permeated right down the bone.
"So you are the one courting Ivan," General Winter said in a steely voice that was the ice cracking within rivers, ancient stones grinding across rugged terrain, and the ever powerful wintry air that turned flower petals to frozen crystals. When all American did in reply was let his mouth hang open, the general pressed on. "Long have I protected those under my domain from the ill wishes of others. I have seen how those beyond my reach can hurt- and I have Sen him return the favor. My form of protection has caused pain, but I have prevented the kind of anguish that lingers here." He brought a ghostly hand to America's chest, who felt as if his heart had been dunked in ice water.
"Hurt him," General Winter continued. "And I shall unleash upon you the wrath of an eternal icy slumber. No fire shall be able to thaw your blood. No ray of sunlight shall liven your bones. Are we understood?"
Shakily, America drew his hand up to his forehead in salute. "Y-y-yes, Mr. Snow Ghost Sir!" he squeaked. The ancient snow spirit gazed into his eyes for a final moment, gave a firm nod, and- as a cool breeze skated down the street- dissipated into thin air.
Alfred all but sprinted back to the phone, nearly broke the buttons in his haste, and spewed incomprehensible gibberish as he professed his joy and love to a very confused Ivan, Alfred only seeing fit to assure him what happened today, however small it was, would never happen again.
EARLIER THAT DAY
A knock sounded at Prussia's door.
"Ja?" he asked, only to freeze on the spot.
"I wanted to have words with you," General Winter murmured harshly. "I see you have begun making advances toward Canada."
"Nein- get away- no, NOOOO!"
THE END
I like the idea of General Winter being a gruff but well-meaning father figure :P this was written on my phone, so I apologize for any mistakes! Let me know what you think? I'd love to hear your feedback!