Title: Happy Cafe

Pairing: Russia x America

Rating: T I guess

The bell over the door tinkled as America stepped across the threshold. He looked around for a moment, then smiled brightly as he spotted a man with pale, whitish hair and a friendly (though rather creepy) smile waving to him from a table in the back.

He quickly walked over, calling, "Bro!" when he was closer.

"How's shit?" he asked, sitting down across the table from Russia.

"Good," his Russian replied easily. He picked up the quaint little teacup in front of him (which was probably filled with spiked coffee) and took a sip. "How about for you?"

As usual, America found his Russian-accented English too adorable to handle.

"Chill as always!" America answered.

"That's good. That's good." Russia picked up a small spoon and began to slowly stir his coffee. He looked away, seeming very distracted, then looked back to America. "Can I buy you something?"

America shrugged, his smile fading slightly. "Just a coke."

Russia got up and headed to the counter, ordering America a coke with ice. He came back down and sat across from America, fiddling with his napkin.

"Hey, broski, remember that time when we were in that Cold War?" America laughed uproariously, and Russia smiled.

"Yeah, that was pretty fun."

"Yeah. I won the Space Race."

Russia huffed. "I won at being better than you. Oh, remember when I was in a civil war?"

America leaned forward, intrigued. "You were?"

Russia nodded. "Remember? It was the Red Army against the White Army."

America gave him a look, and Russia rolled his eyes a little. "Not like that."

America grinned. "If you say so."

Russia sighed. "That Civil War sure was something though. All that blood… I felt like I was being split in two."

"I know the feels, bro," America agreed. "I had my own Civil War, but mine was North against South." He shuddered. "Damn, that was awful."

Russia reached out hesitantly, then placed his hand on America's slightly smaller one. America looked across the table and into Russia's strangely purple eyes. America suddenly felt as if he was being sucked into a deep, dark whirlpool, and he immediately broke eye contact. He didn't like not being in control, as Russia- and most of the world -had already figured out.

"Didn't, like, Mongolia invade you one time?" America asked, not meeting Russia's eyes.

"...Yeah," Russia said after a short silence. "That was kind of weird."

"As weird as Napoleon and Hitler invading and then ending up dying because of the winter?" America joked.

Russia's lips quirked into a smile. "Oh, that wasn't weird, it was completely predictable. Honestly, you'd think Europe would learn at some point that you do not invade Mother Russia…"

"Haha, yeah…" America glanced across the table. When his blue eyes met Russia's purple eyes, he flushed and looked away. "Wow, I could really go for a hamburger right now!" He said loudly and awkwardly. He began to get up from his seat. Russia caught his arm as he passed, jerking him to a stop.

"What's wrong?" he asked America in a worried tone, voice soft.

"Oh, it's nothing…" America said nervously, shifting from foot to foot. "It's just that…"

"Yes?" Russia prodded as America stopped talking once more.

"Iloveyou!" America blurted. "There, I said it! Happy now?" He turned once more to leave, but- once more -Russia held him back.

"Repeat what you just said, but slower this time." He said quietly.

America turned to scowl slightly at him. "I. Love. You. Okay? I said it, so there!"

Russia got to his feet, then reached up and removed the glasses from the face of a very confused America.

"What're you-" America began, but before he could finish Russia had pressed his lips to America, which were warm and chapped and absolutely perfect, in Russia's professional opinion.

"And I love you," the Russian said sweetly as he pulled away.

America just stood there for a moment, slightly dumbstruck, then wrapped his arms around the taller man's shoulders and pressed his mouth fiercely to the other's.

Outside, snow fell softly to the ground, slowly burying the little cafe. The patrons slowly left so that they would not get stuck here. America's coke came to the table, but it was less than forgotten; it wasn't even noticed, for America and Russia had left far before the other patrons. They were currently out in the city, dancing in the park as the snow fell around them, tripping and sliding and falling and laughing and kissing- there was a lot of that, definitely a lot.

As the day grew to an end and the snow and darkness thickened, they walked arm in arm to Russia's house, where they made hot chocolate with cinnamon and baby marshmallows and sat around and talked and laughed and kissed some more, and even did a little bit of dancing.

That night, as America lay in bed next to Russia, he got the feeling of perfect contentedness, and he knew that he would never leave this strange man with his white hair and purple eyes. No, not ever, not if he could help it.

And he could always help it; after all, he was the hero.

Viva: ADORABLE!

A/N So yeah. This was fun. Sorry this was so late... -_-"

This was requested by DalvanBraginski.