Arbiters of the World Order || Amerus/Rusame Oneshots

Intro: talks behind the kisses

"Look look! They came together again."

As the whispers made their way to the maids' ears everyone's eyes were turned to the owners of the footsteps.
There they were-America on the front with his sunglasses and one of his trademark three piece suits, his undercut pushed to the back, smiling kindly to the people he knew with a nod; Russia on the back with his black turtleneck and grey bomber jacket, walking behind America as always. He was a few cms taller than the man before him, but he blended with the shadows all too well.

"They say America keeps him around for thropy."

"Really?"

"Aint that obvious?"

"But i heard that America was in love with Russia, and Russia is just staying there to please him."

"It won't surprise me. Look at their faces. Russia seems so bored."

"It would be pretty embarrasing for Soviet's heir to be downgraded to be America's pet..."

—
"My friend said they came out of the meeting together."

"I heard they went to the same car."

"Probably to show everyone how 'happy' they are."

"Maybe they are really happy?"

"Don't be ridiculous. America is a playboy. There's no way he would settle with someone, yet alone a Soviet spawn."

"Guess so.."

—

"I heard moans from their room, are they fucking in the meeting room?!"

"I wont be surprised."

"Thats why they're together probably. Just for sex."

"Well i mean..America fucked nearly everyone, i wonder how great is Russia compared to that.."

"Dont you see how gorgeous he is? Even if he isnt tight enough his face is enough to make you come."

"True."

—

"Woah, what is that?!"

"You mean the roses?"

"You're saying it so calmly! As if the bouquet isn't the size your entire upper body!"

"It looks so expensive!"

"It must be! Look at the color, woah.."

"Who is it for?"

"Mister Russia, as i heard."

"Really?"

"Woah. Mister America will be so jealous."

"He doesn't look like he would like flowers. Yet alone this size."

"Don't expect much. I will check who sent it, they probably don't know Russia much."

"You went white-who is it?"

"It's-Mister America?"

"You're joking."

"Nope! It has his signature, look."

"He really really uses him for a thropy huh."

"Such a shame."

—

Russia was reading the sixth document when he heard his door getting knocked.

He pulled the pen from his lips and raised his head to look at the door. He straighetened up, looked for a reflexive surface to check how he was.