trust me 2.0 (countryhumans au)

✷chapter four✷

"Me-ow~"

Two men sit on a bench. Winter had just started it's slow transformation into spring. And the men were happy to see eachother after the winter break.

"Ew no stop that- You are not cat,"

The man that had made the silly meowing noise had playfully love tapped the other man on the forehead and slid his fingers down his nose.

The other man grumbled at the man's silly behaviour but had a wide smile nonetheless.

"Ahh you shouldn't have told me about the gift you're getting America then~" The cat man teased.

"I tell you because I need to know if he will like it. And you know Ameryka better than me," The man muttered the last part in embarrassment.

The cat man handed him a drink from the bag at his feet. A bottle of cheap beer. The cat man had already pulled the cap off.

"Sure he'll love it. Honestly, he loves anything you get him."

He paused to take a swig of his own beer that he had pulled out from his bag.

"You think too much of me mate. I barely know myself these days, let alone America," He stared off into the distance for a moment.

He then shook his head.

"Sorry to put a dampen on the mood. I'm not normally this morose," He said with a light chuckle.

The other man looked at him with concern. He gently placed a hand on the cat man's shoulder.

"Is your condition getting worse?" He asked, though by the look the cat man gave him, he already knew the answer.

"Probably is, but hell if I know. Not even the doctors have any idea. Typical, ain't it mate?" He laughed again at his own remarks.

"Why you so calm about this?"

"Hm? Well, I suppose someone's gotta lighten the mood. There's no way to fix it so what's the point in being so miserable about it all?"

The man took the cat man's words into consideration.

"You have good point,"

"Course, if some other dickhead joked about it, then it wouldn't be a pretty picture for 'em," He held his fists up and swung them in front of him a few times.

The two laughed at that.

The sweet memory faded away as Soviet woke up, the cold metal of the floor practically sticking to his face. He pushed himself up off the floor and sat upright.

He groaned. Another day in the box, another bit of his sanity lost. He was loosing the plot in here, to put it lightly.

If the chains that held his ankle to the wall and his wrists together were just a little weaker. He could probably break them and bust down the door to escape. But he had no such luck.

He had no idea of how much time had passed since he first woke up here. He could've assumed ot had been weeks at this point if it weren't for the daily visit from Britain.

Britain brought him food, water and conversation.

Atleast he wasn't going to die of hunger and dehydration.

The door creaked open. Soviet looked up at the door, expecting Britain to walk through.

He was disappointed to see that it was America instead. He wasn't just disappointed, he was angry.

Angry, at America.

"Sup Asshole,"

Soviet just glared as a response. America rolled his eyes.

"I bring you food and you act like an entitled princess,"

He practically dropped the tray of... Ew, you can't even call that food it's more like grey slop. Is- Is that meant to be oatmeal or barf? Gross. I wouldn't be caught dead eating that.

Anyways- He dropped the tray just out of Soviet's reach. The gloop spills just over the tray.

"I don't even know why he takes pity on you," America scoffed.

He kicked the tray towards Soviet. The slop flying onto his face as the tray skidded to a halt mere inches from his feet.

Soviet reached up to flick the disgusting food you shouldn't call food off of his face with a low growling grumbling sound.

America swaggered up to Soviet. He swung his foot up to Soviet's head and pushed it hard, pinning Soviet's head firmly between the wall and America's dug in heel.

"Hah, you look as pathetic as the day I left you,"

He put more of his weight onto the foot that had found it's new home on the side of Soviet's head.

"Have you considered shutting up?" Soviet coughed out.

America dug his heel as hard as he could into Soviet's cheek.

"Nah. The world can't survive without my wonderful voice,"

America finally lowered his foot. He knelt down next to Soviet and slapped the heel mark on his cheek.

"You, on the other hand,"

A wide, malicious smile spread on America's face. He slowly dragged his fingers down from the back of Soviet's ear, caressing his bruised cheek before gently holding his chin.

"You have no idea how much I'm enjoying this,"

Soviet refused to meet America's eyes, as he thought that would only anger him more.

"Quit that look of yours. You think you're better than me?"

Is what he thought America would say if he looked at him.

America bit his lip and shook his head, still gently holding onto Soviet's chin.

His grip suddenly tightened and he forcibly turned Soviet's head to look at him directly.

"You're a real piece of work, y'know that?"

With his free hand, America jabbed Soviet in the gut, causing the chained Russian to curl up.

America stood up and stepped over to the door.

"I think it'll do the world a whole lotta good if you were left alone in here. Don't you agree?"

"Go fuck yourself,"

"Oh Soviet..." America laughed.

"Only if you watch me,"