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“This is all your fault.”
“How so?” There was laughter in his voice.
“Don’t play dumb!”
“I would never.” Now he was mocking him.
“I don’t care what you say! This is your fault!”
“Nothing’s even happened.” That was just plain insulting.
America stepped out of the circle of Russia’s arms. Blue eyes shot accusing glares at the taller country. Nothing had happened? Nothing had happened? Everything had happened! America, Land of the Free, had not only begun to harbor highly inappropriate, sexual feelings towards Russia, Land of Commies and Vodka, but also something he was beginning to suspect was very close to being maybe, if you squinted and turned your head just right, love. America’s whole universe had just been flipped on its head and he didn’t know what to do about it.
The two countries had only been spending time near each other because their bosses had been working together on international relationships. They had started off simply glaring at one another (well, America had been, Russia had been smiling). After a few more meetings they begun to talk and that lead to seeing each other on their down times and that lead to things resembling dinner dates and it had all just gone downhill from there.
They’d each visit the other’s home and spend a few days taking in the sites, learning about the other. America had had a great time at Russia’s place a few weeks back and had maybe given the larger man a hug in all his excitement. After that hugs were just another thing that happened. The week after found them in the Mississippi river, cooling off under the hot sun with a dip in the water. That’s where Russia had caught America staring at a toned body and a firm looking ass. America had decided right then and there Russia needed to wear far less clothing.
It wasn’t long after that when they’d decided to start using their human names for each other.
Russia had taken him to a festival at his home and given him two gifts. One was a very pretty Russian doll with a skirt covered in sunflowers. The second was their first kiss. America hadn’t even seen it coming. He hadn’t seen any of it coming.
Now he was in love with the Red Bastard and he couldn’t do a thing about it and it was all Russia’s fault!
“Everything has happened, Ivan! Everything!” he shouted, desperate to make the other understand. “You made me fall in love with you! And now nothing makes sense and I have all of these emotions and I don’t know what to do with them!” America jabbed the other with his finger. “And it is your fault!”
Russia looked quietly perplexed for a moment before grinning like the mad man he was and scooping America up into a bone crushing hug. “You love me, Alfred? You love me?”
Face squished against his shoulder America grunted his reply. “And it’s all your fault!”
Russia stopped and put him down, still smiling like a lunatic. “Yes, I suppose that’s fair. But, since we are being fair, my little America, it only stands that is it your fault I’m in love with you. So, as you can see, we are both to blame for this.”
America shook his head. “It’s still all your fault. You’re the one who has an insultingly hot body that isn’t mine.”
Russia chuckled. “Oh, it’s yours alright,” and he grabbed America around the waist and landed a kiss on his lips.
“What if we have to go to war with each other?”
“Doesn’t mean we have to actually fight one another.” Another kiss, trying to reassure him.
“But what if?”
“Then whatever happens will be their fault.” He supposed he could blame them for that. If it ever happened.