It's finally Monday, and all the countries are present for the meeting. Germany is barking orders, while France and England banter back and forth. Normally America would be more than happy to jump in and cause a ruckus, but right now he can't.
His voice is hoarse.
He sounds rough, and it's like this because his throat is irritated from all the mucus and coughing. He's just hoping nobody will ask him anything or call him out.
Luckily, he seems to be out of everyone's eyesight today. He isn't forced to talk, which is good.
He moves his hand up, gently pushing on his throat a bit. Somehow the pressure of his warm hand made his sore throat feel better.
He smiles slightly, peering to the far side of the room. Suddenly, he feels cold, and his blue eyes meet Russia's.
He's just sitting there, ever so quietly, leaned on his propped up fist, eyes narrowed calmly. There was no smile, just eyes on America. Like a wolf...watching the lamb.
America quickly moves his hand away, and forces his attention back to Germany. He can't focus on anything that's being said..all he can think about is what Russia is planning over there.
Once the meeting has ended, America quickly rushes towards the exit. That was, until he heard England calling after him. Ugh..if England finds out he hasn't gone to a doctor he'll get another ass-chewing for sure. As he rounds the corner, and instead of continuing to the exit, he slides into the bathroom, and locks himself inside the last stall.
Luckily, England doesn't enter the bathroom. Maybe he gave up the chase after all? America let's out a relieved sigh, then puts down the toilet seat and sits down. He holds his head in his hands, leaning forward slightly.
It's...cold...
"Hiding in here again hm?"
America jumps at the voice, lifting his head up and seeing Russia's boots. His eyes are wide, and he's mentally saying "it's ok, it's ok, we're locked in here. He'll leave."
But Russia doesn't leave. Instead, he keeps talking.
Russia: "I have something for your illness. It will make you feel much better."
America: "I don't want anything from you!"
Russia is quiet for a moment.
Russia: "The other countries have been watching you. I'm concerned it's only a matter of time before they realize you are sick. You are acting strange, and that is only causing suspicion."
America's face drops. Have they really been watching that closely? What if Russia was telling the truth? He can't keep acting out of character.
Russia: "I really just want to help."
America hesitates, but opens the stall door, and Russia is quick to hold up a bottle.
America: "Is that...whisky?"
Russia nods slightly.
America: "Y-you're just trying to get me drunk! Do you really think I'm that stupid?!"
Russia: "You are pretty stupid."
America is fuming from that little smart-ass remark.
Russia: "Whisky will help. It's what I take when I have a cold."
America: "You drink Vodka like iced tea!"
Russia's eyes are still narrowed.
Russia: "One swallow shouldn't get you drunk...so drink."
America: "Then you've probably spiked it. I'm not drinking that shit."
With that, he closes his eyes and twists his head away. By the time he realizes Russia just drank a bit of the whiskey, he's forced against Russia's large body.
Russia's gloved hand grips his jaw roughly, and the Russian then pushes his lips onto America's.
He struggles, trembling as he's pushing away desperately. Russia deepens the kiss, and uses his thumb to push open America's mouth. It's a moment of weakness...and America opens his mouth.
He expects a French kiss, but instead, warm alcohol enters his mouth. Russia pushes his hand over America's mouth, forcing him to swallow the alcohol.
Once he swallows, Russia let's him go, and he falls to the floor, coughing like crazy. He damn near choked.
Russia licks his lips, and kneels down slightly.
Russia: "If you fight me, it's only going to be worse for you. You know that, don't you?"
America peers up, face more-so upset than angry.
Russia: "Keep the bottle..you may need more later."
He sits the bottle down, then stands, and walks out of the bathroom.
America is shocked he didn't try anything more. He really did just want him to drink a swig of whiskey. America calms down, and takes the bottle with him as he heads for the door.
His throat is so...warm.
