There was nearly five feet of distance between the two red-faced nations within half of a second, both of their hands going up to touch their lips before they went back to what they were doing as if nothing had happened. Russia walked over to the still-ringing phone and picked it up, pressing the button that would allow him to answer the call. America watched in anticipation, ready to bash his head into the countertop if it were someone unimportant or if it were a wrong number.
'Oh, if it's a wrong number, I'm going to stab that phone with this fork SO HARD...
.-.
"He-hello? Residence of Ivan Braginski. Ivan Braginski speaking... Who is this?" he asked into the phone, a certain, anxious tone in his voice.
"Russia, this is England; let me talk to Alfred." The other speaker said, a certain edge to his voice.
The Russian mentally sighed, knowing that at least it wasn't an unimportant call. "England, how are you so sure that Alfred is here?"
Russia heard America drop a piece of silverware, so he turned to look at the blond. His blue eyes were wide with disbelief, face paler than the Russian's own. The taller man held a finger to his lips, silently asking the other to not make a single other sound. He nodded in understanding, expression not changing at all.
"Well, Russia, Alfred did not answer the phone in his bedroom in the White House, the President told me what he was taking a short vacation to Europe, and it happened to not be my part of Europe, and he did not answer his cell phone. Surely unlike yourself, I happen to know that when Alfred does not answer his cell phone to me, he is in someone else's company that he does not want me to know about."
Russia sighed softly, responding, "Ah, yes, England. It seems you have done your research. Alfred does, in fact, happen to be with me right now."
"Ivan!" America whined from the other side of the room, staring at him as if he had gone insane.
The taller man ignored the other's dispute, listening to the Englishman speak. "Well, Russia, I would appreciate it if you let me speak to him."
Russia looked over at the other, who had resorted to fidgeting with the end of his shirt and nibbling on his lip. "Ah, I am afraid I can't allow that..."
"What do you mean you can't allow that? That immature CHILD broke my heart, with the likes of YOU nonetheless, and you can't let me speak to him? I am not daft, Russia, I know perfectly well that you two were about to kiss in that meeting room!" the other screeched. Russia looked over at America, who had heard England's entire rant. His downcast blue eyes were dark with guilt, hands clenching the hem of his shirt tightly.
Russia took a deep breath to calm himself, replying, "England. I am quite aware of the situation in the meeting room-"
"Don't give me bullshit, Russia-"
"-but I cannot let you speak to America." he finished after being so rudely interrupted.
England let out a shuddering breath on the other line, saying, "You are testing my patience, Russia."
"Da, and you are testing mine in turn."
"...Russia, you know I love Alfred, correct?"
Russia smirked bitterly, mumbling, "Da, romantically."
"...Yes, well, you must know how heartbroken I was when I walked in on you two-"
"England."
"Yes?"
"He doesn't love you. Get over it." Russia said, patience on the verge of snapping. He tapped his foot anxiously, trying to keep his temper under control. He looked over at America who was trying to breath steadily, head still down.
"He could have! Eventually, some day, he could have! If you hadn't come along and seduced him, maybe I could've had a chance!" England accused angrily, loud enough for America to hear.
"Oh, so this is all my fault now? And I did not seduce him!" Russia rebutted, clenching and unclenching his idle hand.
"Yes you did! And it's just as much his fault for being selfish enough to think that being with you wouldn't hurt anyone else!"
Russia was speechless at the Brit's words. He glanced in America's direction, watching as a silent tear rolled down his cheek and fall to the floor.
Oh, no, that was it.
"No, you are the selfish one! You cannot force him to love you, England! You did not make a single move to be in a romantic relationship with Alfred; it is your own fault that he does not love you!" Russia yelled furiously. "And if you really loved him, you'd let him be happy with whoever he chose, whether or not it was you."
"Y-you shut up right now!"
"Everything you are saying right now is hurting him! Everything! All you do is insult him and his ideas, especially when he has done nothing to deserve it. All you succeed in doing is distancing him; why would he ever think to love you?"
"H-he was MY colony, NOT yours, Russia." England hissed threateningly, voice dangerously low, not knowing how to combat the Russian's statement any other way.
"Yes, well maybe that is why he chose me over you; because I don't treat him like a colony." Russia retorted without missing a beat, controlling himself enough not to smash the phone into the ground, pressing the END button.
Russia sighed softly, forcing himself to set the phone on the receiver gently before turning to look in the American's direction.
America was staring at the taller nation, blinking away the tears from his eyes. "I- You- Thanks for, uh, defending me, Ivan." he mumbled, sitting up a bit straighter.
"You do not need to thank me..." Russia sighed, rubbing small circles into his temple. "I, uh... I need a moment by myself, if you do not mind.."
America nodded as the taller nation walked out of the kitchen and into the living room, settling down at one end of the couch. He held his face in his hands, letting out a quiet groan. His head was pounding with anger at the Englishman before a realization hit him.
America hadn't denied choosing him over England.
Russia lifted his head up, staring at nothing in particular. Not only had America not denied what he had said, but... Why did he say it in the first place? Why did it make his heart beat faster when he thought about it?
...Why did it make his heart beat faster when he thought about America in general?
'Too many questions... Too many...' he thought, keeping his brain from going into some sort of a system overload. He closed his eyes and let out a sigh, feeling his headache increasing again.
Russia heard quiet footsteps approach the couch, and a few moments later he could feel the cushion next to him push down. A careful hand rested itself delicately on his back as America asked, "Are you alright?"
Russia nodded, blinking his eyes open and staring out in front of him. "I should be asking you the same thing..." he mumbled, a tiny sigh escaping from his lips. He knew America must have been more than a little bit upset by the phone conversation between himself and England, and he hadn't done anything to comfort the blond after the fact.
"Oh, no, I-I... I'll be alright." he responded quietly, looking away. A tiny, suspicious thought pricked in the back of his mind, thinking that America wasn't quite okay yet, but he decided not to say anything about it. "I- Well- I'm more concerned about you honestly. Are you okay, Ivan?" America added after a few seconds, rubbing his hand up and down the other's back gently.
Russia closed his eyes for a moment, savoring how the other's comforting gesture felt, before saying, "It is nothing. I'm... Ah, still a bit angry at England."
"No, it's okay. I'm pissed off at him, too." America mumbled, absentmindedly tracing tiny circled in the other's back. "He was talking about me like I wasn't even there, like I couldn't make my own decisions for myself."
The paler blond looked up at the other, trying to analyze what the other had meant. He shifted himself closer to the American, feeling their thighs brush together just barely, making him blush so little it was almost nonexistent. He honestly couldn't think of anything to say, uncurling his fingers and resting them on his own knee.
"...He just doesn't understand that I see him as a brother; that I won't ever see him as anything else. And now he's throwing a hissy-fit because I.. Chose you over him..." he murmured quietly, slowly inching his own hand over to rest itself over the others, hesitantly bringing his eyes up to look into the others.
Russia's heart nearly stopped, feeling as if time had as well, leaning in just enough that their noses barely touched. America rubbed his nose gently against the other's, a small smile on his face, before both men closed that tiny gap between them to press their lips together.
Without interruption. Finally.
The taller man's violet eyes closed, bringing both of his arms around to tentatively wrap around the other's waist, all of his senses suddenly hyperactive. He could smell the wonderful, indescribably scent coming off of the blond; the kind that naturally brought people closer. He could feel the extreme heat of the American's lips pressed against his own, the warmth spreading through his body like a wildfire. He could hear the other shift around until his arms were situated around his own neck, bringing them closer still. One last thing to test...
He flicked out his tongue, just barely tasting the other's lips. The flavor of the hamburger he had made earlier lingered on his tongue before he registered a natural sweetness that America possessed. It made him press his body closer to the other's, gently letting his tongue lick across his lips again; a tiny, pleasured sound nearly made it's way past his own throat at the taste, wanting as much of it as he could get.
America parted his lips a mere sliver, a hand drifting up to tangle his fingers in the other's thick hair. Russia's tongue slowly entered the smaller man's mouth, an explosion of that wonderful flavor blinding his other senses. He felt the American's tongue hesitantly touch itself to his, sliding itself over it and letting him explore his mouth. Their bodies were pressed together so close that he could feel the blond's heart beating nearly in sync with his own.
And, as soon as it had started, it ended. The Russian pulled back only after his lungs were completely screaming for air. Once they had separated, he noticed they were both panting heavily, their faces flushed a matching shade of pink. America's hand slipped down from his hair, staring into the other's eyes with a kind of intensity he didn't know he possessed. The entire house was dead-silent other than their breaths, neither one wanting to utter a single word.
Suddenly, a tiny smile showed on America's lips before he mumbled quietly, "That was awesome."
Russia giggled softly, the entire atmosphere going from intimate to silly with a few words. He leaned forward, nuzzling the blond's cheek before pressing a small kiss to it, the taste of the other still on his tongue. "Da, it was.." he murmured, rocking back and forth gently with the other in his arms.
They said nothing for a few minutes, pressing small, gentle kisses along each other's faces. Russia let his hands stray from their position around the other's waist, resting on his hips momentarily before smoothing themselves along his chest. He memorized every part of the other's upper body as something randomly occurred to him: He wanted to feel America like this, only without clothes.
He suddenly pulled back, face flushed red, pants feeling somehow tighter than they had before. He stood up off of the couch, back away a few feet. "S-sorry..." he apologized quietly, hands fisting in his own shirt.
America looked up at him curiously, nibbling on his lip, hair in disarray. "Did... Did I do something wrong?" he asked, silently panicking at the Russian man's actions.
Russia shook his head anxiously, thankful for the coat that hid the slight bulge in his pants. "N-Nyet, it is not your fault. I-it it nothing." he stammered nervously, eyes wide.
The other stood up off of the couch, frowning slightly and walking over to the other until they were less than an inch apart, resting a hand on his cheek. "What's wrong?"
Russia shied away slightly from the other's touch, his lower half starting to feel uncomfortable. "I- Ah- Nothing, just..." he mumbled nervously, face somehow becoming redder. "I n-need to go..." he said, backing up a few steps before rushing up the stairs, locking himself in his bedroom to take a long, cold shower.
Leaving a very confused America standing awkwardly in the middle of the room.
Author's Comments: Yes, I just HAD to screw that ending up somehow. I'm evil like that :D But you can't hit me too hard for it, I mean, I did give you an uninterrupted kiss scene in there ;) It's about time, da?
And as for the beginning... Oh dear me, that broke my heart when I was writing that ;_; And then when I told my England cosplayer about it, I swear she was about to cry. I FEEL SO GUILTY. And I'm sorry for all you USUK fans out there...
Oh, and school has given me WAY less free time than I had previously anticipated. I get home from school, have a half-an-hour break, and then I do homework from then until 10-12 at night. Then I have to go to bed :I Therefore, updates are going to be unfortunately less often, especially since I'll be beginning the first chapter of the Prussiamerica I'm going to write.
And by the way, about the PrussiAmerica... Well, it's most likely going to have a smut in the first chapter. Just sayin'. And with that fic, I'm going to write several chapters of it before I post anything, and I'm probably gonna post the first chapter after/around December. Just a head's up and all :)
Lastly, thank you SO MUCH for all of the reviews and faves and story alerts! Every single one brightens my homework-overloaded day, even if it's only a little bit. Thank you so much!
