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America’s house was hell.
Despite being so young, it appeared that America picked up on England’s hoarding habits. Coupled with the fact that he claimed to “barely have time to clean” and saying shit like “Why should it matter if my house is messy? You’re here!” Lovino found himself working day in and day out. He still snuck in a two hour lunch and a two hour siesta, but still . Even when he tried his original plan of using America and protesting about actually working , it ended with him being threatened with violence almost being killed!
Lovino would have said that at least he wasn’t alone in his suffering, but Lithuania was mainly for office work and didn’t have any time to help with chores. The two of them talked during mealtimes (which America didn’t join since he was still on the phone), but it was always short lived since Lithuania went back to work when he “should”. Whatever, not like he cares if the jerk works himself to death.
The same could be said for America, given that Lovino just offered to share some of his lasagna with him. But of course, the bastard insisted his solution of shoving disgusting fast food bars down his throat was better. Nothing on Earth could come close to his cooking (besides maybe his idiot brother), even his leftovers. So as far as Lovino was concerned, America should starve.
He got back to work with an angry groan, turning to slam the mop into the bucket.
Despite hating the place, it did offer something back home didn’t have; money and a job. His week turned into weeks and turned into months as the Industrial Revolution roared through the young nation. America remained a stranger, barely talking to him unless it was to give more barking orders. Bit by bit, though, Lithuania started opening up in his stead. The northern Nation showed him some techniques to get the cleaning done faster and in return Lovino taught him how to take longer breaks. They had run around each other in Europe for centuries, but they never had a chance to really talk to one another as coworkers instead of Nations.
…And he was cute. For a guy.
A few months into his longer-than-he-thought, can-the-Italian-economy-please-get-better-already, Feli-what-the-hell-are-you-DOING stay, he and Tolys sat down for another long lunch at his insistence. This time though, Lovino noticed him constantly looking at the door separating them and America. Even though the wood they could hear the near-constant ring of the phone lines and America’s grating voice.
“Want to get back to work that badly, huh? You’re insane,” Lovino said.
“No, though the work really isn’t as bad as you make it out to be. I’m just concerned about America. Aren’t you?”
“Of course not, what’s the jerk done to get you all worried?”
“I mean…it’s the third month he’s gone without eating something decent. And I don’t think he’s been sleeping much either despite being in pajamas,”
“He’s eating those dumbass fast food bars and refused my lasagna; he can starve for all I care. And then we’ll be free of this shithole,” Lovino groaned.
“Ah, but then we’ll both have to go home and be broke again,”
“...Fuck. Damn Industrial Revolution,”
As they settled for the siesta (another one of Lovino’s interventions), Tolys’ comments didn’t leave his head. Three months without food or sleep? It’s not unheard of for a Nation to do that. Hell, he and his brother did it for almost a year back in 1853 when they were helping to fight Russia — but that was a war and this was damn paperwork. As his eyes grew heavier, he let the other man’s concerns slide off him. It would be inconvenient if the American bastard collapsed because he couldn’t sign a check for all the brutality he was putting him through. More than likely, his industrial spirit would give out before that happened.
A siesta didn’t fix the roots that Tolys had planted. Not that he gave a damn about America (yes, he’s still pissed about calling his leftovers trash from months ago, he has to have pride in something around here), but he spent the next month watching the blond closely. Part of their lunches were now dedicated to tallying up yawns or the number of gross bars he had eaten, the pair trying to calculate when he would collapse.
Tolys, as Lovino found out, was not one to fuck around and find out. What a good trait in a man — HUH.
After a long bitching-about-Russia session and a tale from 1470 by Tolys relating to him, they resumed the hidden list of data they collected on their employer’s habits.
“I counted six already today, you?” Tolys said.
“Damn, one more than I saw. We’ll go with your number since you’re around him more, I guess,” Lovino marked it down and glanced over the rest of their numbers, “It’s definitely going up. How much time would it take for him to make something that’s actually food?”
“Depends; would you make something for him if he asked? Because he’d probably just ask you to cook by this point,”
“Not a chance!”
“Then it’ll take too much time for him to make something. Which is a shame; he didn’t pick up England’s cooking habits so his meals are pretty good. But…” Tolys walked around the table and leaned over Lovino’s shoulder to get a better look at the paper. His heart definitely didn’t skip a beat at the closeness, it was just awkward! He could have just handed over the paper! Yeah! Definitely!
The constant mumble from America’s voice beyond the door went quiet, and Tolys seized the opportunity. He rushed to open the door and walked up to America’s desk, while Lovino followed at a distance to hover in the doorway.
“Um, America…?” Tolys asked, his previous gusto deflating once face-to-face.
“What’s up dude?” the blond replied, breaking eye contact to get out another disgusting bar (add another to the tally)...
“Have you considered taking a break at all? Lovi- we both noticed you haven’t eaten anything substantial or possibly slept for a few months now…” ‘Damn it, don’t drag me into this!’ Lovino thought.
“Oh, c’mon it hasn’t been that — ” the phone rang again, “ — Hold that thought,” And he lept back into his cycle. Well, ‘lept’ was an overstatement. His hands seemed like they were dragged through the syrup France kept importing from Canada, and Lovino thought back to when raising a gun felt like God himself was pushing down on it when he pulled a similar stunt. Tolys sighed and headed towards their Lunch/Siesta Room and slumped into a chair. Lovino closed the door behind them and joined.
“That went well,” he sighed.
“Yeah, no shit. You’re lucky he didn’t kill you,” Lovino said.
“He wouldn’t threaten me over that — if I remember correctly, he only raised his fists at you since you deliberately made a mess of the place. I swear he’s actually nice when he’s not busy,”
“I’ll believe it when I see it, I’m telling you to be careful,”
“My knight in shining armor. Also add one to the tally so we can nap,” Tolys walked away to grab their stashed blankets while Lovino prayed his face would turn from tomato red to a respectable pink instead because of the comment.
Another month passed and Lovino had a personal breakthrough.
He had a potato.
Of his own free will .
Because this stupid man with his stupid ponytail and stupid good looks and personality wormed his way into his heart. Bastard.
When Tolys recommended swapping cultural dishes, it took shorter than Lovino would’ve liked for his prideful walls to cave. He found himself picking out the best quality goods from the nearby market, paying top dollar to the Italian immigrants America hosted, and made sure his recipe was perfect . Well, it was always perfect of course, but extra perfect. And it was all worth it to see Tolys’ face light up with the spices and complexity of the pine nuts and involtini and red wine and basil. The flutter of his heart at the other man’s reaction let him power through the cepelinai or whatever Tolys made despite it being potatoes. He may have (begrudgingly…maybe…) praised the dish since it reminded him of canederli and was hearty and a litttttle bit tasty.
Lovino couldn’t comprehend how Tolys made it past lunch without a siesta after eating something like that all those months ago. Their normal banter stayed quiet though, no matter how much Lovino poked and threw topic after topic at the other. Sure, they talked at length about food while eating, but something seemed…different, and the cepelinai sat in his gut as unease grew.
“...I think I’m going to do something stupid,” Tolys whispered. He walked up to the phone in their break room (there were at least ten in the house) and took a deep breath. Lovino walked up next to him as well, curious at what he would consider ‘stupid’.
“If you’re going to stay there, be quiet. Don’t say anything and don’t let anyone know what you’ll overhear,” Tolys said as the phone connected, a strangely serious expression on his face. Lovino shrugged his shoulders, content to stay silent.
“Allo?” said a voice…in Russian…
‘Did this idiot call fucking RUSSIA??’ Lovino internally screamed, ‘What the hell, Tolys!’
“Um…hi. How’s everything over there?”
“It is good! Latvia is being a very good friend and helping me with my work so my boss doesn’t punish me! Is America treating you well?”
“Yeah! Yeah, it’s fine,”
“...Then why are you calling?” The light tone dropped from Russia’s voice and Tolys hunched his shoulders forward. Before he could think about it, Lovino reached forward and grabbed the man’s empty hand. Tolys looked between the grasped hand and Lovino before giving it a squeeze and continuing.
“Do you have enough time to come here really quick? America is — he needs help. I’ve tried everything I can think of, but he’s still not eating anything besides these weird brown bars and he hasn’t slept and it’s been months and I’ve tried talking to him and he just shuts me down and then — ” It came out like a steam train, charging forth without pausing for a breath.
“ — I’ll be there tomorrow. It will be nice to see another friend’s face again too!” and the line went dead. Tolys’ shoulders sagged with relief as the phone clicked back into place, the terror from before transferring to Lovino instead.
“You’re inviting Russia here? Sei pazzo? He — “ Tolys slapped a hand over Lovino’s mouth before glancing back at the door. America was quiet again, and the pair held their breath until the phone rang.
“When America eventually goes into a coma to recover, we’ll be out of work. Do you really want to go back and face your economy?” he whispered. Lovino let go of Tolys’ hand and used it to pry the hand off of his mouth.
“Of course not, that’s why I’m in this hell hole in the first place. Why Russia? America can’t be scared into sleeping by him and it’ll just make us stressed as hell. Half of our lunches have been complaining about him!” Lovino replied.
“Oh wow, I’m not really tired enough for a siesta so it looks like it’s time to get back to work! Talk to you later!” Tolys charged for the door, leaving behind all their dishes for Lovino to clean up.
“Jerkface. I hope your precious potatoes all grow spuds overnight,” He grumbled before reluctantly closing the door between them again. He’ll stick to their routine, at least to relax and absorb the fact that of all God-damn Nations coming here, fucking RUSSIA would. What the hell.
The next day, Lovino heard the door open in a distant part of the house, followed by Tolys’ rapid footsteps. He stopped his sweeping and strained to hear their conversation layered on top of America’s most recent client.
“Lithuania! Good to see you again, friend,” Russia said. ‘Shit, he wasn’t joking. Don’t know why he would be, but I had hope,’ Lovino thought.
“Was the trip alright?”
“Yes, but Latvia kept asking how long I would be gone. He seemed stressed for some reason,”
“Maybe I’ll give him a call later after two you…um. I’ll just be in the other room,” Lovino rounded the corner to look through the doorway and saw Tolys’ eyes widened with surprise. He charged across the room, narrowly dodging the countless telephone wires, and practically launched himself at Lovino. He pushed the Italian against the wall next to the doorway, just out of view from the main office. The open door was on the opposite side of the pair, but it was already too late. The wood outside creaked as Russia entered and there was a slight chill in the air, effectively keeping the two of the trapped in place unless they wanted to be seen. As the heavy footsteps grew closer, Lovino saw the exact moment when Tolys realized what position he put them in.
“Fedya ~,” Russia started in a sing-song tone, and Lovino paid close attention so he could try and ignore the blush starting to redden his face. America didn’t seem to respond to the odd nickname and continued talking to whoever he was on the phone with.
“Подсолнух, my love ~ “ he asked again and — oh .
Those two were together.
Like, together, together.
And now he again feared for his life.
“Alfr — don’t tell me to wait,” the Russian huffed. Lovino would’ve loved to sneak a glance at a Nation telling Russia to wait , but any movement was met with resistance from Tolys. It seemed the strength from his height centuries ago hadn’t faded just yet.
“I need to finish these calls,” America finally replied.
“Lithuania called because it seems like your calls are never finished,”
“He snitched on me?” There was genuine venom in his voice and Lovino felt Tolys tense against him. Lovino shifted slightly, freeing his arms to wrap them around the other. Now this, no matter what Tolys thought, could lead to the young Nation going on a warpath aimed directly at the man he was hu — COMFORTING — no, hugging.
“I’m glad he did. You’re not in a war; you shouldn’t be exhausting yourself for something like this,”
“I’m — one sec,” America picked up another call. The man really didn’t have any fear of Russia, what the fuck. Well, they were partners and all (FUCKING APPARENTLY) but it was just weird to listen to. There was some shuffling on the wood until “— Иван Что за черт! ” …That was definitely not Russia’s voice. Lovino and Tolys traded puzzled looks before, in silent agreement, they both leaned over and poked their heads out of the doorway as Lovino supported their weight. Russia was standing by the wall where the phones were plugged in, the wires dangling in his hand.
“Plug them back in; I can’t fall behind. Making this much and accepting all the orders is the only way I can stay on top,” America hissed.
“You should be happy your can afford to rest,”
“You’re just jealous — “ America cut himself off and deflated at bit, “Please plug them back in, Vanya,”
“Walk over here, unsupported, and plug them in yourself!” he replied. Without another word, America heaved himself out of the chair, took a confident step forward, and promptly fell to the floor. Russia moved at a terrifying speed and ducked low to catch the Nation before his head hit the wood. Once he was in Russia’s arms, all the tension left his body and the blond fully passed out. There was a soft smile on Russia’s face — not the eerie, creepy smile he usually throws everyone’s way, but an actual smile. ‘Christ, they really are in love, how long has this been going on?’ Lovino thought.
The smile probably disappeared when another thud hit the floor.
Throughout the interaction, Lovino’s grip that was supporting both himself and Tolys started to slip, and now it had finally gave way. The two collapsed onto the ground and the weight of the other pushed all the air out of his lungs. The temperature rapidly dropped as they scrambled to get up and Russia came closer. Tolys forced himself in front of Lovino, acting as a shield between the two. The large Nation had America tucked against him, but the frost that followed Russia started covering everything else in sight. His piercing purple gaze looked Lovino up and down as the windows were covered with ice thick enough to block out light.
“As a thank you for calling, I will not crush you here and now,” Russia started, “But if the rest of the world hears about our relationship, my people will get a Mediterranean port since you will no longer be there. But anyway, I’ll bring him upstairs! Спасибо!” Russia walked away from the pair and left them in the frozen office.
“...We should clean this up; it won’t be good if the water rots the wood,” Tolys said. Lovino also took note of the blush across Tolys' cheeks, still a bright pink despite the room being cold enough to give them both goosebumps.
“How long will he be up there?” ‘In case the bastard changes his mind,’ he thought, ‘And…’
“Definitely until America wakes up — he won’t make that mistake twice. Why?” Lovino ran a hand through his hair and let it land on the doorway, encroaching ever so slightly into Tolys’ space.
“Then do we wanna talk about what happened back there?”
“Those two? They got together in 1892 when I — “
“No, us ,” he noticed that Tolys didn’t move from his spot despite Lovino getting closer. Close enough that maybe —
“Dinner first, give a guy a minute,” Tolys laughed, "America will be out for a while, let's go out,"
Alfred woke up torn between needing to pass out again or eating his pillow to get at least something in his stomach. It was a bit bright beyond his eyelids, but not enough to where the full blast of the sun was coming through the window. So it was either early morning or…
He reached forward a bit and was met with a familiar softness he loved. Without bothering to open his eyes, he slid closer until he was pressed up against Ivan’s cold chest. Ivan wrapped a hand around his back and let it rest in his hair, gently playing with the golden strands.
“Are you awake, солнышко?” Ivan whispered.
“Nope, I’m sleepin’ still,”
“It’s been a few days, you should eat,”
“But I’m still tired…a few DAYS?!” The calls. The orders. He can’t afford to have a production delay. As if sensing his next move, the arm around him tightened.
“You said you were still sleeping, so I guess you’ll stay in bed,” Ivan teased.
“Let go of me, I need to get back to work,” Alfred pushed back and shifted so he could meet Ivan’s eyes. He didn’t want to put too much force into it — he knew damn well he could rip Ivan’s arms off to get out of his grip if he wanted.
“I’ll let you get up if you get breakfast and go back to sleep,” he replied, “I don’t want to find you like that again, especially since there’s no reason for it,”
“And why not? It worked for a while, didn’t it?”
“You have to delegate or take breaks. I don’t like seeing you collapse…” He brought the hand down to Alfred’s side, lightly tracing over one of the scars from his last too-quick reunion with the floor a few decades back. An internal debate roared through Alfred. On one hand, the motivation and drive of his own people had his heart racing to get back to work and make up for his lack of productivity. But he also felt a deep exhaustion in his soul and the bed was so warm and also food sounded really fucking good right about now.
“If I fall behind I’m dragging you back here to help,” Alfred groaned.
“I don’t know if Latvia will be happy about that, but oh well! He can lean on Estonia and…I guess just him since you stole Lithuania!”
“I didn’t steal him! He came here of his own free will because I’m the best country in the world!” It was Ivan’s turn to groan as the pair got up, the Russian confident that Alfred wouldn’t bolt straight to the phone. They meandered down the stairs to the kitchen and found a very…unusual surprise.
“Let’s just see if there’s a place around town to eat,” Alfred whispered, creeping back up to get properly dressed, “I’m not really in the mood to interrupt them,”