'Well,' America thought glumly as he glared at the pancakes on his desk, 'that could have gone better.'
It had been almost three hours since America had locked himself in the room, and he had absolutely no idea how he was going to leave the room without facing Russia and dying from embarrassment. After Russia had left the plate outside his room and thanked him, he had taken the pancakes to show that he had acknowledged him, but he hadn't been up to eating them, seeing as they were full of lies and deceit. And speaking of his brother, he had sent him multiple death threats against him and his maple syrup. Bastard. What right did he have to interfere with his business?
Actually, America thought with a frown, didn't Russia and Mattie arrive that morning at the same time? What were they doing together?
'Probably poking his nose in my business.' America thought with a pout. 'I swear that he's just as bad as France sometimes.' Sighing, America took his now cold pancakes and tipped them into the waste basket, and considered his options on what to do next. He could pretend that nothing had happened, but clearly that would just be ignoring the problem. Plus, America couldn't remember the last time he had outright apologized for his behavior to anyone, let alone Russia, so Russia sure as hell wasn't going to act like nothing had happened.
Plus, Russia had already acknowledged it happened by thanking him, and oh boy did that surprise him. And to be honest, America didn't really know how to respond to that. America was used to them bickering, arguing, and threatening each other. Not having an honest and open conversation, and it freaking terrified him. It was such an alien scenario between them, and it just left him feeling uncomfortable.
He could talk to Russia about it… yeah, no. That was clearly the choice a mature adult who had their shit together would choose, and America clearly wasn't ready for that yet. That and the last time he had tried to have a heart to heart with Russia, (excluding that morning), it was under a pretty extreme situation. Like, end of the world kind of extreme situation. And while that had ended as well as anyone had hoped, America wasn't ready for a repeat of that. No sir. No, the only way that was going to happen was if he had a shit load of alcohol, which was unlikely because he was technically under aged, (which is bullshit), and he couldn't get any.
So, what to do? To be honest, he had no idea. The only thing he could think of was accepting that it happened and to carry on as usual. Like, it wasn't because they had one conversation that they were going to be friends or anything. That would work. That is, that would have worked if he hadn't holed himself in his room and just made the situation a hundred times worse!
"Damn it!" America shouted, kicking his desk. Damn his teenage sulky nature!
Suddenly his cell phone rang, and America snatched it up and answered it. "WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT?!" America shouted angrily.
"NOOO! I'M SORRY!" A terrified voice shouted. Surprised, America pulled the phone away from his ear as he heard terrified sobbing from the ear piece and looked down at the caller ID. Oh dear, it was Italy.
"WAHHH, PLEASE DON'T BE ANGRY WITH ME!" Italy cried. "I JUST WANTED TO ASK YOU SOME THINGS ABOUT THE MEETING!"
"Italy, dude chill." America said with an awkward laugh. "I didn't know it was you. What did you need to ask?"
"Oh, I just needed to know what kind of food I should bring to the meeting seeing as I'm going to be preparing lunch." Italy sniffed.
"Yeah, anything is good. You can do pasta if you want, but I'm cool with anything. Can you do garlic bread. You're the best at that." America asked, relaxing slightly.
"I'd love to!" Italy said cheerfully. "By the way, I heard Russia is staying over at your place for awhile.
"Don't ask about that, I don't want to talk about it!" America snapped.
"WAH, I'M SORRY!"
"No, wait, I'm sorry." America sighed. "I'm just really stressed is all, I'm sorry I yelled."
"It's okay." Italy reassured. "I understand. Why don't you make some pasta to cheer yourself up?"
"I'm not really in an eating mood. Maybe later." America admitted.
"WHAT?!" Italy yelled, making America flinch at the volume. "YOU DON'T WANT TO EAT?!"
"Yeah, I kind of lost my appetite earlier-"
"GERMANY, AMERICA ISN'T HUNGRY! WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE!" Italy shrieked and he hung up on him.
"That was rude." America grumbled as he threw his phone on his bed. Grabbing the dirty dishes on his desk, he walked over to the door and braced himself. The only way to deal with this situation was to treat it like a band aid. He just had to rip it off. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door and peaked out. To his delight, Russia wasn't anywhere to be seen, and walking out into the living room, he saw that he wasn't in the kitchen either. Pleased, America walked over to the kitchen, and then to his annoyance he saw that there were a number of dirty dishes on the stove and sink where Canada had been cooking earlier. Which to be fair to his brother he would have never done usually, but because he was still mad at him he could help but feel a little petty as he started to clean the mess up. A few minutes into cleaning, he heard a mew at his feet. Looking down, he saw Hero looking up at him.
"And where have you been hiding?"America asked, a small smile pulling at his lips as he picked him up and cuddled him. "You're never mean to me." America cooed. "You'd never leave me."
"I would not be too sure about that." An amused voice said behind him. Jumping slightly, America turned to see Russia standing by the door.
"How come?" America asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Well, seeing as he has been with me for most of the day, I can say that he clearly prefers me." Russia said with a smirk.
"What? Lies." America said, holding Hero up. "I feed this fatty. He'd starve without me. He would never betray me as long as I pay for his food."
"I would not say that. He would follow anyone who offers him food. Speaking of which," Russia said, suddenly looking uncomfortable, "I have been meaning to ask you something."
"Uh." America said nervously. "What about?"
"My cat, Milashka." Russia said. "Would you mind if I were to bring him here?"
America blinked in surprise. Of all the things he had expected Russia to ask, that had not even crossed his mind. "Uh, yeah, no problem." America said, feeling slightly relieved. "When did you want to bring him over?"
"Ah, well you see that is the problem." Russia said, looking slightly ashamed. "He is in the lobby downstairs."
"Wait, what?!" America asked, his mouth falling open. "Why is he here now?!"
"I planned to bring him here from the start, and he came on a different flight than me, so he arrived a little late. I meant to tell you this morning but…" Russia drifted off, gesturing to the mess in the sink while clearing his throat. "…things got in the way."
America sighed, rubbing the back of his head. "Well, I can't just turn the poor little guy away can I? Go downstairs and grab him, I'll set up a cat pan and food for him."
"Thank you. I apologize for inconvenience. I will pick up some supplies for him later." Russia sighed as he walked over to the door. As he closed the door behind him, he let out a sigh of relief. Not that he had expected the American to leave his cat out in the cold, but he expecting the man to yell at him. He had been rude to spring it on him, and after the fiasco this morning he had expecting him to go off on him at anything he did. America didn't usually handle embarrassment well and often sulked, hide, or started yelling at people to cope. Maybe he had worked through it already. Russia was relieved. The sooner they got back to their usual relationship the better. When he got down to the lobby, he spotted the cat carrier on the desk, and the desk man, Greg paying with Milashka with a piece of string. Hearing his footsteps, Greg glanced up and raised an eyebrow at Russia.
"This your cat?" Greg asked.
"Da, he is mine." Russia said with a nod.
"He's cute." Greg said with careful look at Russia. "I don't mean to intrude, but what is your relationship to Alfred?"
Russia squinted at the man in front of him, but Greg just continued to hold his gaze. "That is a rather personal question." Russia commented coolly.
"Hmm, a little." Greg admitted. "But the only people who visit him are his family, and even then they only visit once or twice a year. So I can't help but get a little curious when he actually invites someone over. Of course, you don't have to answer the question; it was rather rude of me."
"Is that why you have been watching me?" Russia asked, tilting his head slightly.
"Oh, I didn't mean to stare." Greg chuckled. "You simply caught my interest. There isn't much to do down here."
"I see." Russia said, turning the carrier around and peaking in. Milashka meowed happily, purring when he saw Russia. Smiling, Russia stuck a finger into the cage and Milashka rubbed up against it. "I am simply a coworker who is staying for awhile for work related reasons."
"Are you good friends?" Greg asked.
"I would not say that." Russia admitted. "But we have known each other for a long time, and he offered to let me stay at his place for my trip."
"Hmm." Greg hummed with a slow nod. "Well, if that's the story I guess I won't pry. It's nice to see Alfred hanging out with people outside of his family. While he's a social butterfly he doesn't usually stay in one place long enough to make connections."
Russia frowned at that. America didn't strike him as the lonely type.
"Well, I better let you get going, I'm afraid I've held you up for long enough." Greg chuckled.
"Da, goodbye." Russia said, picking up the crate and making his way up the stairs. What a strange guy.
When Russia entered the apartment, he saw America scooping litter into a second litter pan, with Hero sniffing it curiously. Hearing the door open, America looked up with a grin.
"So, our new roommate is here!" America said, bouncing over and looking into the carrier. "Aw, he's so cute!"
Russia chuckled. "Yes, he does live up to his name."
"That he does." America laughed. "Why don't you let him out in your room? I'm sure he'd feel better being surrounded by your scent before he explores the rest of the house."
Russia agreed, and they walked over to Russia's room. America stood by the door as Russia walked over to the bed. Setting the carrier down, Russia unlocked it and Milashka walked out of it carefully, looking around his surroundings. Milashka was an all grey cat, with the exception of his front chest and tip of his tail, which were white. He also was super fluffy. So fluffy in fact, he looked like a walking marshmallow. Spotting Russia, he started to purr immediately and pounced over to Russia and started to rub himself all over him.
"Hello, Milashka." Russia said happily, petting him. "Did you miss me?"
Milashka purred louder in response.
"Oh my god, he's so fluffy!" America almost squealed. "I love him!"
Russia raised an eyebrow. "Will Hero get jealous with a second cat in the house?"
"Nah, Hero loves everyone. See, here he comes now." America chuckled as Hero walked into the room. Spotting Milashka, Hero froze for a second. Then he jumped up onto the bed and ran straight up to Milashka, sniffing him. Milashka jumped back in surprise, chirping at Hero, who chirped right back.
"Aw, they're talking." America cooed.
Milashka paused for a second, then he lifted his paw and gently patted Hero's nose. Hero meowed and head butted Milashka purring loudly.
"I think they'll get along just well." Russia chuckled as Milashka licked the top of Hero's head.
"Can I pet him?" America asked.
"I would not recommend it." Russia admitted. "He is friendly with other animals, but he doesn't trust people right away. I would wait for him to approach you first."
"Aww." America sulked. "But he's so freaking fluffy. I want to pet him."
"He will come around in time." Russia reassured, amused to see America's disappointment.
"Aw well." America sighed. "Hey, Italy called earlier by the way."
"What for?"
"He said he's taking care of lunch this time."
"Oh." Russia said with a frown. "Are we having pasta again?"
"And garlic bread." America said with laugh. "Although I'm sure his brother will actually bring along some other dishes as well."
"Thank goodness for that." Russia muttered. "For as well as Italy can cook, he does not often stray from pasta and pasta related dishes."
"Isn't that true." America agreed. "Speaking of which, what did you want for dinner? I was thinking burgers."
Russia grimaced. "Ah, I do not think-"
"Ah ah ah, not McDonalds, my homemade kind. They are so much better, I swear!"America said, holding up a finger to cut Russia off. "Don't knock it till you try them dude! When it comes to homemade burgers I'm the best around."
Russia hesitated, them nodded. "I will try them, but I cannot guarantee that I will enjoy them." Russia warned.
"All I ask is you try them. My usual taste tester is currently on my shit list, so you'll do." America said with a grin. "They'll be ready in a few hours, so if you want to chill out you can." Humming, America turned around and walked to the kitchen. Russia watched him go, and then turned around to watch the two cats in front of him. Milashka was currently in a wrestling match with Hero. They both appeared to be having quite a bit of fun, pausing here and there to lick each other, and then going back to wrestling.
Walking over to a nearby drawer, Russia pulled out a string. Facing the bed, he threw one end next to the cats. Hero spotted it immediately, jumping up and attempted to pounce on it. Russia tugged the end of the string out of his reach at the last second. Hero's tail started to swish back and forwards, and he attempted to pounce on it a few more times before Milashka decided to join in.
Milashka caught the string on his first pounce, but Russia was able to pull the string out of his grip and zig zagged it across the bed and onto the floor. Hero tumbled off the bed in his haste to catch it, making Russia chuckle. Hero shook himself, and then ran towards the string again. Russia spun it in a circle for awhile, until Hero got dizzy and flopped onto the floor.
As soon as the string stopped, Milashka pounced off the bed and on top of it. Grabbing the string in mouth, he attempted to run off with it but Russia gently tugged it back. Milashka batted at the string for a second, then attempted to pull it out of Russia's grip. Laughing, Russia tugged the string out of Milashka's mouth a lifted it off the ground. Hero leapt towards it, but he missed.
This went on for about an hour, which ended up with both cats panting heavily and laying on the floor. Just as Russia was about to call it quits, Hero's ears stood up, and as quick as a whip he raced out of the door. Curious, Russia followed him into the kitchen, where he saw America placing down beef patties on the grill on his stove. America gave Hero an exasperated look.
"And just what are you waiting for?" He asked the cat at his feet.
"Meow."
"No."
"Meow!"
"You have your own food bowl, and your own dinner. I am not feeding you expensive meat."
"M-eow!"
"Uh-huh."
Hero pulled back his ears and gave America begging eyes.
"Those have never worked before. What makes you think that will work now?"
"MEOW!"
Sighing, America spotted Russia. "Oh, hey. How did you want your burger cooked?"
"Well done, if you do not mind." Russia requested.
America squinted at him. "Medium well is best, and you are clearly wrong, but I'll do it."
"Forgive me, but I do not trust your meat over here."
"How rude!" America sputtered. "I only make burgers with the best meat thank you!"
"MEOW!"
"See!" America said, pointing his spatula at Hero. "He agrees with me! And you're not getting anything." America added, making Hero hiss.
"Do you talk to your cat a lot?" Russia asked in amusement.
"He talks quite a bit." America said with a laugh. "Do you feed Milashka when you cook?"
"I do not. He would beg if I did." Russia said as said cat jumped onto his lap. Milashka sniffed the air and spotting America he chirped curiously.
"No, if I feed you I'll have to feed him." America said with a frown.
"Mew."
"No."
"Purr."
"No."
"PURR!"
"MEOW!"
"PURR!"
"MEOW!"
"This is getting out of hand, now there are two of them!" America sighed. "Fine, if it will shut both of you up."
"You are so easily swayed by a pair of cute eyes." Russia chuckled.
"They're too cute for their own good." America grumbled. After a few minutes America placed two bowls on the ground and the two cats jumped on it.
"And here is ours!" America said cheerfully, placing the dishes on the table. "Two cheeseburgers with lettuce, onions, pickles, tomatoes, and ketchup! Also I made a garden salad and steamed broccoli. I hope you enjoy!"
Russia had to admit, it all looked very good. And when he actually tried the burger, he was shocked to find it not only edible, but that he was actually enjoying it. America smirked at the shocked expression on Russia's face.
"Yeah, better than fast food crap, right?" America asked.
"It is! Why do not all burgers taste this?" Russia asked.
"Well, most are made at fast food places, so they are pre packaged." America sighed ruefully. "But if you want a real American burger you should go to a family grill or picnic. They actually use real fresh meat and grill. Plus, how you flavor the burger is up to you. I mean, I make a mean burger, but these aren't as good as the burgers I grill outside. A stove top grill just doesn't compare I'm afraid."
"Can I have the recipe?" Russia asked.
"Nope, trade secret." America said. "You may have it when I am dead, but not until then. I haven't even given it to France, and he's been begging me for years."
"For years?"
"Yup. I made the mistake of giving him one of my burgers and now he claims he won't quit until I give him the recipe or he makes a better burger than me. And while he can make a mean burger, his will never be as good as mine." America laughed. "I have a secret formula of sorts."
"Like SpongeBob?"
"Yeah, except mine is real! And you watch SpongeBob?" America asked excitedly.
"My sisters like to watch it. And I like the memes." Russia admitted.
"I thought memes were banned from Europe?"
"That was greatly exaggerated." Russia said with a shake of his head. "But sometimes I get yelled at while at work because I'm on them too much."
"Same." America said with a nod. "But meetings are so boring. Like, I've sat through meetings for over two hundred years. They all kind of sound the same after awhile."
"It does not get any more interesting with age." Russia sighed. "If anything they get more boring."
"Aw man, don't tell me that. I need some sort of hope for the future."
"Better to know now than in the future."
"I guess." America sighed. "Hey, actually I've been meaning to ask you, how old are you actually?"
"I have no idea." Russia said with a shrug. "I lost track centuries ago."
"What!" America asked in shock. "Dude, you must be super fucking old!"
"Which means you should respect me! I am an elder." Russia said happily.
"Nah, if you're an elder than I'm a punk kid who doesn't have to listen to you!" America said, sticking his tongue out at Russia. "If I never listen to China what makes you think I'll listen to you?"
"Hmm, I guess you have a point." Russia said. "But most of his information is out of date, so I would not recommend listening to him anyways."
"Think he ever gets bored with living?"
"I do not think so." Russia said, shaking his head. "I think he said once that people never fail to amuse him. They're always finding new ways to be stupid."
"Man, that's true." America grumbled. Then he perked up. "Hey, do you want to watch a movie after dinner?"
"I would not be opposed to the idea." Russia said after a moment. "Did you have anything in mind?"
"How about a Disney movie?"
"Do you have The Hunchback of Notre Dame?"
"Yeah, I have every movie Disney's ever made!" America said proudly. "However, most of my movie collection is in California, but I have all of the main Disney releases in most of my houses."
"How many movies do you have?"
"Oh, dude I have no idea. Something like twenty thousand currently I think."
Russia felt his jaw drop. "Have you even seen all of them?!" Russia asked in disbelief.
"Oh, goodness no." America laughed. "Who has that kind of time? I've only seen about a fourth of them. I'm still working my way through. In fact, my giant mansion in California is just for my movie collection. I separate the rooms by genre and the biggest room in the house is the movie room where I play them."
"That sounds rather expensive." Russia commented.
"A bit, but everyone needs a hobby." America said with a shrug. "Although, I'll be honest with you, I don't think I've watched more than a hundred of my romance movies even though that's my largest selection."
"Why not?"
"Because romance is so cheesy and predictable." America said with a frown. "There are only so many ways a romance story can end. You either get together or you don't. Either you're happy or you aren't. Either the romance is convincing or it only works due to plot. And if you really want to change things up you make the ending unclear. It's boring. It's an over saturated genre. And it has the same old clichés over and over again."
"I never knew you had such an outlook on romance." Russia said in mild surprise.
America shrugged. "I just prefer other genres and stories. Romance is ok if it's in the background, but I don't like it being focused on. I actually prefer stories about friendships."
"Why?" Russia asked, intrigued.
"Because friendships are a lot more complicated. I don't really know how to describe it. Like, there are so many different ways to be friends with someone. You can have someone who is super like you and be friends, but you could be total opposites and still be like peanut butter and jelly. You could hate each other guts, but still have a level of respect for each other, or have an unsteady alliance. You can be a casual friend, or a distant friend. And friendships can grow and change throughout your life. You can lose touch with someone you knew your whole life or be best friends with someone for only a day and never forget them. You can forge a friendship through hardship or break it. One choice can lose you a friend forever, or one choice can save it. You can just write and develop two people more if they aren't in love." America explained.
"There are different types of love you know." Russia pointed out. "You can love a friend. Family love isn't the same as sexual love. If anything, family love can be even more complicated than a friendship. There are plenty of amazing stories based on family love. And you don't only have to love a person. You can love a memory, an item, or an idea. Friendship is just a sub category of romance if you think about it."
"Hmm, I guess." America agreed reluctantly.
"How about we watch a Russian romance story?" Russia offered. "I brought a few movies over to watch. You might enjoy a few."
"I highly doubt it, but what the hell, why not? I don't think I've seen many Russian films. It would be good to expand my collection." America said with a small smile. "Although I didn't take you for a hopeless romance."
"I like the idea of Romance. While I am not taken to it outside of fiction, many popular ballets are based on romance and tragedy. It is a genre I have come to respect over the years, and I prefer realistic romance over that of idealized romance. In real life there are rarely happily ever after's. Most romances end in tragedy in the real world after all. I believe Hollywood has warped the idea of romance too much. Too many happy endings, not enough heartbreak."
"So sue me, I like happy endings." America huffed.
"I think you would like a movie called Admiral. It was made in 2008."
"What's it about?"
"Watch the movie and find out." Russia said with smirk as he finished his dinner.
"Okay, smartass." America huffed. "Go get the movie. Let me get the kitchen cleaned up and I'll make some popcorn."
When Russia had gotten back with the movie, America had set up the DVD player in the living room and was standing by the microwave with two popcorn bowls, while Milashka and Hero were napping next to each on the couch. Russia placed the DVD in the player, and had just sat down when America flopped down next to him.
"Do you need the English subtitles on or do you think you'll be able to get by?" Russia asked.
"Eh, turn them on. I keep them on most of the time on my movies anyways." America said with a shrug.
As they watched the movie, Milashka had stretched out some point and ended up and Russia's lap, while Hero had fallen asleep on the top of the couch next to America's head. By the end of the movie, America was sniffing a bit and Russia looked sleepy.
"Dude, see, this is why I hate movies like this. It gets me all emotional with feelings I'd rather deny I have." America pouted. "Like, why did he have to die in the end? Why did everyone end up miserable?"
"Such is the way of Russian romance." Russia said with a yawn.
"You're romance sucks!" America said, pointing a finger at Russia. "Give me a good old fashion hero and his lady riding off into the sunset over this any day."
"You are just uncultured." Russia chuckled. Glancing up at the clock, he got up with a groan. "I think I am going to head to bed now. It is starting to get late."
"Alright, I'm going to stay up for a while more and catch up on some work." America said with a yawn. "See you tomorrow Russia."
"Call me Ivan."
America froze, then glanced over at Russia in confusion. "Huh?"
Russia hesitated, then repeated himself. "Call me Ivan. We are going to be living together for some time. We might as well call each other by each other names."
America sat in silence for a second, then gave Ivan an unsure smile. "I guess that makes sense. I guess you can call me Alfred."
"Da, goodnight." Russia said with an unsure smile of his own. As he walked out of the room, Alfred smiled. Well, looks like today didn't suck to badly after all. He was still going to kick his brother's ass next time he saw him though.
A/N: Chapter 4 has arrived! It's been awhile, but I finally continued the story! Will they just be good friends, or something more?! Hell, even I don't know. It all depends on you guys! There is an updated poll on my profile (because the other one is out of date), to see if it becomes romance of friendship. Like I've mentioned earlier I've never done a romance before, but hey, I need to branch out. I mean, I've hinted at it before, or made it in such a way where if you squint it's there, so how hard can it really be? By the way if you think having two cats begging for food is bad try five cats and a dog.