Rusger Oneshots

Reunion

Yay the boys get to see enough other again :D

I had fun writing this it is 12am but who cares *throws them down the path to their relationship with joy and a hopeful thumbs up*

Another story idea I'd love to write if you guys want to read it: What could have been - An alternate universe where the events of both Worst Nightmares never happened and the two of them carried on living life nicely and growing up as Hans and RSFSR. So keeping the personalities and characteristics of their childhoods without changing due to the angst

shameless self promotion there for a second okay I hope you enjoy reading!!

○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○

January 26th, 1992. United States of America, New York City

Russia stepped out of the black car that had picked him up from the hotel he was staying at, nodding at the driver before glancing up at the huge building. It was lit up with electric lights, a big sign in English on it that made him taking a few seconds to decipher.

America had organized a get together party for all countryhumans. He hadn't wanted to come at first, but Belarus had threatened him with a visit right up in his face in Moscow if she didn't see him in New York City on January the 26th.

He'd rather take the chances of meeting her in neutral grounds instead of his own home, where he risked being cornered and entrapped to his own demise.

Snowflakes were falling heavily from the sky, blanketing the roads and tops of other cars with a fine white coating. A few splotches of light came from the streetlights, beaming down to the dark roads. He huffed to himself and stuffed his gloved hands into the pockets of his jacket, jogging indoors.

His dark blue ushanka kept his hair free from the snow, the faux fur lining the ear flaps framing his face and preserving his warmth. The receptionist greeted him with a sweet smile as he walked into the lobby. He quickly flashed her the ID card he'd been provided, pretending to nod along understandingly as she chattered in a fast, heavily accented English about the directions to the party.

He'll probably find it himself though. Russia thanked her and quickly walked towards the elevator, glancing around for a second then slipping away to the stairs.

It only took five minutes to finally land on the correct floor and room. America had disgusted their party as a 'Rhythm and Blues' music convention, he had no idea what that was but it was written in bold blue letters on a banner surrounding by big blue balloons tied with more blue ribbons.

Just a party, no need to get worked up. Act nice and don't fight anyone.

Russia sighed and steeled himself, feeling the familiar, comforting weight of his ushanka on his head and the dog tags still hanging on their silver chain around his neck. He pushed the double doors open and stepped into whatever awaited him.

It was warm and comfortingly dark in here. It reminded him almost of candle light. Although they had moved past that stage of technological development by now. A bar stood at the center of the room, where he could spot a few other countryhumans already. Couches sat around circular tables dotted all around the room.

America popped up beside him on his left, holding a crystal glass of dark brown liquor.

"Hello. Alexander, was it?" He greeted in a easier to understand English. The 14th America was a serious, no goofing off man, after all he did just defeat his father and walk out of the Cold War as the victor a few months ago. Russia nodded, lifting his hand towards him.