Black Coffee :|: America x Russia :|: Countryhumans

Act I, Chapter Six

"I'm melting, Rus! Melllllllltiiiiiiiing!!"

"What, why?"

America whimpered as he slammed his face into his textbook.

"This maths is killing me."

Russia chuckled from across the small room, picking up a pistol that was nonchalantly sitting on the coffee table. 

"Is that why you have so many guns? To fight off the numbers?"

"Shuddup," the suffering country mumbled, holding his head in his hands.

"Whaaaaat?" Russia mused sarcastically, plopping himself in a spot next to America on the couch. "The great United States of America has been defeated?"

Rolling his eyes, America sat up and slumped back into the couch, throwing his pencil onto the table - a sign he had given up.

"Maths is my only weakness."

"I doubt that."

America straightened again, eyeing Russia with a grin. "Wanna bet?"

"Nah," Russia waved off the idea and smirked back at him. "I don't play if I know I'm going to win."

"OH YEAH?" America exclaimed, hopping off the couch and staring down at Russia.

Russia winced slightly at America's volume - he was still a little hungover - but brushed it off, standing as well. Due to America being so close to the couch, when Russia stood they were practically nose to nose, bodies pressing against each other as America felt Russia's breath dance across his face. Now it was Russia looking down at America, shoulders squared to seize him up more. America felt his chest tighten as he stared up into the other county's eyes.

"Yeah," Russia breathed.

Without warning, Russia jabbed his fingers into America's sides, earning a strangled gasp from the shorter. Taking that as a good sign, he continued to dig into America's skin, causing America to start to laugh uncontrollably. He grinned as his friend struggled to breathe through the tickling, wriggling and squirming to try to escape.

"I think I found another weakness, Meri!"

With a bit of luck, America freed himself, hunching over and gasping for breath. But Russia wasn't going to let him go that easily and tackled him onto the couch, prodding and tickling him more easily while straddling him. America wheezed and giggled and even snorted occasionally underneath him, flailing his arms about. 

"Rus...sia, p-please...ple-...s-s-stop!" America begged between chortles.

Finally Russia decided to have some mercy and rested his arms on either sides of America, staring down at the puffing boy. America gazed up at him in return, still smiling, causing Russia to smile back. 

Russia eyed America's sunglasses, his curiosity increasing by the second. What was behind those glasses? What was he trying to hide? Surely America's glasses would've fallen off during their little skirmish due to all the boy's wriggling? But no, they stayed put. He even seemed to try extremely hard to maintain their position.

Wordlessly, Russia lifted a vermilion hand to America's face, hearing the boy's breath hitch at the movement. Russia gently grasped the frame of his shades and very slowly began to slide them down America's nose.

Suddenly, America seemed to realise what he was allowing and shot up, accidentally headbutting Russia. Both countries groaned at the impact, America rubbing his forehead and Russia reciprocating.

"What the hell, Meri?" Russia hissed through gritted teeth, climbing off him.

America stayed silent, staring at the floor with a grimace. He couldn't believe what almost happened. How could he have let down his guard so easily? What the hell had Russia done to him to make him so...compliant?