I read somewhere that the Honda Civic is the car that's made with the most American parts. So, I figured that Alfred would drive a civic even though it's not the most glamorous car…
And, I didn't make Ivan a psycho or a complete softie. It seems like everyone puts him in the extremes. But, I think that, with Alfred, he'd act more like a normal person that just hates the other cause they hate each other so much they know everything about each other…right? So, they can be comfortably in hate . For now~
Alfred was a hardcore American in every way; especially considering the fact that he was America. So…he understandably got bored easily. Instant gratification had become such a major part of his culture that he couldn't sit still for more than thirty minutes without a television or computer or something.
The plane was finally at an altitude where he could roam about the cabin with ease. He sat up, rising to his feet and pacing. There was a flat-screen television, but it only got the news and he was growing sick of re-watching the brawl at his fireworks.
Finally, becoming too bored to contain himself, he buzzed in the flight attendant. She dashed in, carrying a tray of empty wine glasses from the 'meeting' his government officials were having in the room next to him.
"Hey, could you bring in some markers and paper and…um…I dunno…some clay."
She stared at him. "You're bored, aren't you?"
"Please?"
"Why don't I just go get you your laptop? You don't need to start another war over drawing mustaches and stars all over other countries."
"I wasn't going to draw a mustache!" Alfred said defensively. "I was going to draw a sunflower! He likes sunflowers."
"Not his face I bet he doesn't…" the attendant said stiffly, turning and disappearing into the next room.
Alfred huffed like a child and plopped back down into his plush chair. He kinda wished that Ivan would just wake up. It was much more interesting to verbally harass the larger country than it was, just sitting here.
He imagined Ivan with little sunflowers all over his face and laughed into the back of his hand. God, he'd be pissed! It would be so funny…
But, the whole point of bringing him back with him was to get him better so he could get rid of him as soon as possible. That meant that Ivan would need a lot of rest. He couldn't wake him up.
He tapped his foot restlessly. Now he had to cancel that movie night he'd planned with Kiku…unless he could keep Ivan shut up in the basement for a night. Somehow it seemed unlikely that things would go smoothly. Japan still kinda hated Ivan. But, hell…he still hated Ivan…intensely.
Why was he doing this again?
Oh…yea. If Ivan's image was diminished, it would ruin America's image as well. The two were rivals. Coming out on top because your competitor is weak just…doesn't look as good. No matter how counterproductive it seemed, Alfred had to get Ivan strong again so they could continue their bickering in peace.
But…maybe he could have fun with this. He finally had an excuse to bring over some company for awhile. Being such a powerful country, America didn't have very many friends. Japan and England were pretty close to him if he really thought about it. But, England was always busy and whenever he came over, everything was always about the royal family. And every time Japan came over, Alfred just ended up not sleeping for a few weeks because of whatever horror film they'd watched. Maybe Ivan would be good company if he was too sick to be argumentative.
The attendant returned, carrying Alfred's computer in its case. She unzipped it and plugged it into the wall for him. "Anything else while I'm up?" she said calmly.
"Oh, could you bring me something to eat?"
"Course," she replied.
Alfred smiled. He loved having his Americans working for him. They always understood that, when he asked for food, he meant bring the buffet. It was only natural to them since they were the same way as he was. But, what was wrong with that?
He typed his password into his laptop. *J*U*S*T*I*C*E*L*E*A*G*U*E*1*9*9*1*. He got free wifi on his own plane of course. He went to google and searched treatments for the flu.
His food came in a few minutes later; about fourteen hamburgers, five orders of cheese fries, a rootbeer float, and some cake.
…
When they'd finally landed, Ivan looked like he was still out cold. Alfred got to his feet again after unbuckling his safety belts. Ivan's face was pale and he was sweating and shivering. If Alfred didn't hate him so much…he'd feel sorry for him.
The American lifted one of the Russians limp arms over his shoulder and lifted him up out of the seat. The Russian grumbled something unintelligible. He'd grown even weaker over the flight than he'd been before.
Alfred would never admit it, but he…was worried. "Goddamnit Ruski. When'd you get so light?" he said, laughing stiffly. It was a little disturbing actually. Someone as tall and broad as Russia should not be so lean…
There was a bit of weak struggling as Russia woke from his unrestful sleep. "Vell, I am sure ve can fix dat in your home, da?" he grunted.
Alfred grinned, choosing to take it as a compliment. "Well, sure. Even when we're in recession, we're still living in excess. It's so fucking nice," he snapped wittily.
Ivan grunted, stepping on the American's toes as they made their way across the cabin to Alfred's car. "Oh, I'm so very sorry…America," Ivan said sarcastically. Alfred bit the inside of his cheek, trying not to overreact and failing miserably. "Did zat hurt?" Ivan pushed, prodding the angry bear.
"Fuck it," Alfred muttered, slipping out from under the Russian. Ivan grabbed desperately at the air before toppling over onto the carpeted floor. He groaned and rolled over onto his back. He was already aching all over and that American swine wasn't making it any better.
"Vhat a hero you are…" he growled from the floor. His arms were sprawled out uselessly. He didn't even want to think about moving, but his pride wouldn't allow him to ask for the American's help. So, he pressed his arms into the ground and tried to curl up into a sitting position at least. He was too weak.
"I'll help you up if you apologize," Alfred said, clicking his keys so his car beeped as it unlocked. He leaned against the stairs to the parking hold in the back of the plane.
If Ivan could just get down those stairs and into that car, he wouldn't have to worry with the American who was already leaning against his car. "I am sorry that you are a fat capitalist pig vith an ego dat is almost as big as his gut…" he spat.
Alfred pouted, pulling the passenger door open calmly. "Tsk, tsk. That won't do at all…" America was not going to send aid to Russia until he received a proper apology, but Ivan would do nothing of the sort; not now, not ever. Instead, the Russian was crawling across the floor, trying to get to the railing of the short staircase so he could haul himself up.
He was succeeding slowly but surely. He slid on his stomach to the railing and lifted his frail frame up; leaning against the metal as he gingerly descended the three steps.
Alfred watched, highly amused. The Russian was trying so hard just so he wouldn't have to ask for help! This was hysterical! It was all he could do not to bust up pointing and laughing.
Ivan stumbled across the parking hold and let himself fall into the passenger's seat. Alfred held the door open for him at least. The American leaned over the side of the door and helped the Russian sit properly in his chair. "All better?" he said, feigning curtness.
"иди в жопу, mудак!" he grunted. (Sounding like 'ee-dee v zhoh-poomudak')
Alfred translated it in his head and gave the Russian a shit-eating grin. "Now, that's not very nice~" he mused, leaning over Ivan to buckle him up. All he earned was a shove out of the car.
"I can handle dis myself!" he snapped, pulling the belt over his chest and strapping himself in.
Alfred shrugged and walked around to his driver's seat. He slipped down into the small car and started his ignition. "What kinda music do ya listen to?" he asked the grumpy Russian and was promptly ignored. "Alrighty then. My stuff it is." He pushed in a CD and settled for Poker Face by Lady Gaga.
The synthesizers and a steady drum beat pounded from all corners of the car as they pulled out. Alfred tapped his wheel to the beat. The music was a little repetitive and tacky, but he still loved it. It was fun and easy to listen and sing to. He knew the song had many meanings behind it, which made it that much cooler.
They drove from the airport and got onto the highway.
In the other seat, Ivan cringed with every word gaga sang. He tried to bear with it. He'd been miserable for the past two days. His body ached and his head felt like it was going to pop from pressure. That stupid plane ride hadn't helped at all. He felt nauseous and the music wasn't helping.
He didn't want the American to know that anything would bother him; else the glutton would prod him with it constantly and he'd never find peace. He needed to get better as soon as possible so he could get home. But…this…this he couldn't take. He reached out a trembling hand to change the song.
Alfred glanced at Ivan and decided to let him choose a song. He'd already tortured the guy enough for one day. He'd punched him in the face, drove him from the world meeting, forced him to come to his country, and dropped him on the floor for stepping on his feet. That was at least four points for America.
"Vhat is this shit?" Ivan said coldly.
"Hm?" Alfred said, focusing mostly on the road. He glanced down at the radio. "Oh, that's Beiber, Timberlake, Iglesias, Manson, Franti and Spearhead, and…um…that's Tokio Hotel, Diddy, Eminem, and…I think there's Kei$ha in there too."
"Do you have any good music?" Ivan demanded, wanting to throw up all over the dashboard.
"What're you talkin about? All that's good," Alfred said cynically.
Ivan flipped one more track and waited for the music to start. It began with a piano solo, so he waited. A few of the other songs had started well, but had just become unbearably American after a minute or two. But...this song…no way…
Realizing what he'd found, Alfred reached for the radio. Ivan grabbed his hand weakly. "This is…she's American!" he said defensively. He didn't try hard to pull free to change it though. He kinda liked Kerli too…
"Nyet…" Ivan said, staring at the radio in disbelief. "She is from Estonia."
"That's- so? A lot of my music is foreign!" Alfred said, not realizing how childish he sounded.
"But…vhy from Estonia? Russian music is far more agreeable." Ivan said, contemplating.
"Oh, get your head out of your ass," Alfred groaned.
"Though…this is a great step up from your Lady Gaga," he reasoned, "even if she is singing in Estonian."
Alfred gripped the steering wheel. Lady Gaga was cool. She was one of his favorites. She was so interesting and ready to push limits. He silently flipped the Russian off, quietly searing in his seat. He reached to the radio and clicked to the next song.
"Nyet!"
"Yes! If we're listening to Kerli, we're not listening to her sing in Estonian. It sounds too much like Russian. I like 'Speed Limit' better!"
"I like 'Stay Golden'."
"Obviously," Alfred spat. "I didn't even tell you the name. You listen to this stuff on your own?" he laughed. "You said you hate Estonia and you hate me, but Kerli is both in one. You've been westernized."
"Why von't you just die for me?" Ivan snarled weakly, sinking back into his seat.
Alfred shrugged. "That sounds like an insult I'd use. You get more like me everyday…" he said, giving the Russian another shit-eating grin.
"Do not test me. I will strangle you even if you are driving…" Ivan challenged.
"Oh, just chill," Alfred said, waving a hand dismissively. "It's not like I'm making an insult! You should be more like me, you'd be cooler."
"I do not need to be any 'cooler'. I would rather freeze to death."
"And you just might if you keep shiverin like that and do nothin about it. Put my coat back on," he suggested, tossing it over his passenger again.
Ivan looked revolted and he threw it off. "Do not touch me with your vile stench!"
"Really?" Alfred said impatiently. "Just take a nap please? We'll be at my house in like half an hour if you can just shut up and sleep or somethin."
Ivan glanced at Alfred, not letting the American notice his look. Why was he ignoring his insult like that? He expected a better more bitter retort than that. Alfred just sounded…concerned instead of pissed. Shouldn't he be mad that he had to take care of Russia like this?
Ivan sat there and thought about the reason why the American might be taking care of him in the first place. It made sense. Russia was still a strong country. America had even chosen Russia to send their astronauts up to the international space station if Americans were needed up there. But right now, Ivan was weak, and he knew it. He and Alfred were always in competition ever since the sixties with the space race. If Ivan fell out and was too weak to compete with Alfred. Then…the American would win by default. And that wasn't heroic at all.
Ivan watched the American prop his elbows on the wheel and put his chin in his palms. It was getting dark already. The plane ride had cut eight hours out of their day. Ivan considered that Alfred must be tired. He probably didn't sleep at all last night because of his independence celebration, then to have a flight to England at two in the morning and going home at noon with a sick Russian…
Alfred reached for his coffee. The lines in the road were beginning to merge together into one long, yellow line. He needed to get home and sleep. Ivan already seemed to be beating him to it apparently. He was sort of shocked that he'd let the argument go so quickly. He wasn't sure if that should make him worry that he was really so sick that he couldn't even bicker with him, or if he should just be grateful for the silence and being able to listen to his music in peace.
He turned the track to 'Heartbeat' by Enrique Iglesias and Nicole Scherzinger . Making a mixed tape like this was so illegal, but it's not like he really cared. He could just download the songs off iTunes and burn them on a CD. It seemed legal enough.
…
Alfred decided it was easiest to just carry the Russian back inside while he was still asleep. Ivan was a heavy sleeper and Alfred knew this. So, he slung the taller man over his shoulder and dug around in his pocket for his house key.
If he didn't get inside and get to bed soon, he'd faint on his doorstep. How much would that suck…being so close?
He hitched Ivan further up on his shoulder and went back to his car. Most likely, he'd left his keys in the ignition again. So, he opened the driver's side door and bent over, and sure enough, that's where they were. He reached for them, thumping Ivan's head against the roof of the car as he did so.
"Aw, fuck…" he muttered as Ivan woke up, thrashing.
"Vhat the hell?" the Russian spat, struggling to get free of the American's arms. This was just plain demeaning. He'd never actually thought of how Alfred must have gotten him into his car…oh, God…that was embarrassing…
"Quit struggling or I'm gonna drop you!" Alfred said as Ivan kicked him in the side. It wasn't very difficult to keep a hold of him. He wasn't struggling very hard, though he seemed to think he was. He was out of breath already.
Alfred sighed and flipped the Russian off his shoulder and into both arms. "I could carry you like a bride if you'd rather, doll?"
"Vhat did you just 'all me?" Ivan said in horror.
Alfred laughed and began walking. Ivan kept struggling weakly, muttering curses at the American. Most of them were death threats that would have sent ice through the veins of any other country, but America was far too confident of his own strength to take a threat seriously.
One of these days, Ivan wanted to remind him why they were competitors. He would show the Alfred that America wasn't necessarily the strongest superpower. But first, he'd have to accept his southern hospitality and get himself better.
Translations
иди в жопу, mудак!- Fuck off, asshole!
I'm kinda afraid that I'm making Russia sound more like France with the dialect I'm trying to give him…tell me if I am please?
Also...i didn't want to make the rating M just for some explicit language... i mean, in American highschools you hear this stuff everyday, so it's not like you have to be 17 to hear it. But...if it offends...i'm sorry, just ask and i'll change the rating.
Review?