Chapter Text
Christmas lights hung from the mantle of a placebo fireplace. America was sitting on his soft couch, not too far away from the mantle smiling to himself for no particular reason. Tomorrow was Christmas, with that reason, he should be excited, that should be the reason a smile was on his face but instead he found himself at odds, causing his smile to drop slowly as he turned his head, the landline was sitting not too far away, sighing to himself he scooted closer to it. Reaching over he grabbed the handset.
Pressing in numbers into the keypad, ones he thought he would forget or lose memory of within the years, yet he for some stupid reason still remembered. Letting the phone ring, he brought it to his ear lightly biting his lower lip taking a nervous inhale, relations with the other were still rocky and this could mess it up, and… what was he supposed to say, what if there was nothing to say? Shaking off the nervousness, the phone picked up.
“Привет Amerika.” hearing Soviet’s voice made him breathe out a sigh of relief and slump against the back of his couch “Soviet” he mumbled back leaning his head against a soft red white and blue pillow at his side, he could hear children caroling outside, on the streets “is there a reason you called Amerika?” Soviet had stopped tapping on whatever wooden surface, from what he could tell. He didn't even know why he noticed the tapping in the first place.
America could tell the other man had switched languages despite the thick Russian accent, being the emotional bum he was it made his eyes start welling with tears shifting the bottle of wine left in his hands from an earlier escapade with the people at his work. “I’m lonely. And that leads me to call you.. Uh… we should hang out..?” he managed the words out, yet anxiety clung to him like a parasite would their host, why wouldn't it though? He was asking an enemy, one not only a long distance away, but also if they were ever caught together it would cause a political battle even more so than the current moment, to hang out.
WHAT IDIOT DOES THAT, oh he is so dead, and the silence that trailed the other line felt suffocating, it made him run his hand through his hair as soviet chuckled, he could hear rustling from the speaker and a click. The line cut off abruptly making him sigh rubbing the temple of his head reaching the hand with the handset in it back towards the table next to the couch, he didn't even place the handset on the hook, instead the handset slipped from his hand and clattered with his glasses to the wooden floor as he let his body fall against the length of the couch, staring into the tan wall, the only thing lighting it up was the christmas lights on the mantle of his fireplace.
The fireplace wasn’t real, since he had to live in a small apartment building. He moved out of his house so he could catch up on work. He hates to have to move away from his states but he really had no choice. He guessed the bad thing was the fact he wasn’t returning their calls, and was ignoring plus burning the letters they somehow send to him on the daily basis, don’t get him wrong though he does reply sometimes mainly to stop from hearing banging on his door from Virginia and/or Maryland. He got snapped out of his thoughts when he heard glass clink. He moved his head and looked down at the wine glass, it had fallen from his hand and splattered wine onto the ground.
Glaring at the problem he got up but didn’t move to clean it up. He willed himself off the couch, grabbing the handset and actually placing it back onto the hook, and stumbled around the dark apartment until he managed to get to the fridge, opening it with a wide swing and grabbing a beer. Knowing he was going to regret it later when he brought it to his mouth. The landline started ringing, he didn’t bother to answer instead he downed the beer, the taste burning his mouth and making his eyes slightly water, however it wasn’t good enough to satisfy so he started looking into the fridge, the ringing ended up stopping by the time he had downed all of the 3 beers left in his fridge, trying to shake off a headache he stumbled into the spare room of the apartment.
The floor was littered with papers and documents. His desktop computer sitting in the middle, he sat down in the office chair and waited whilst the computer booted up. Sure he could’ve gotten what seemed to be a cool laptop computer thingy, but even if he was a personification of the LITERAL country he still held a budget, and he made sure not to over spend it. He started absent mindedly sorting documents with words too blurry to read, into files that lay on his desk as his computer booted up, he sorted documents until he woke up to the sun glimmering in his eyes and his landline ringing.
Quickly getting up and knocking over the chair he groggily dragged himself to the landline, taking the handset off, placing it his ear made him start feeling nauseous “This is America speaking” he mumbled “Ah America i’ve been trying to reach you forever. The boss of the USSR has scheduled a meeting between you and the personification of the USSR. at specifically 10am, at a local cafe, just a few blocks from your apartment out of anything. I was calling yesterday but you never answered.” was the bombardment of words he couldn’t comprehend all that well.
He listened to his boss talk and talk, until eventually he heard a click and placed the headset back on the hook, then it hit him. He ran to the bathroom and puked his guts out, the taste was horrid and had him dry heaving and coughing into the toilet which he was glad to have actually made it to, on multiple occasions since coming to the apartment he typically didn’t make it in enough time. He stayed kneeling with his chin resting on the rim, waning out the nausea, once he felt a little better he got up and stumbled to the sink grabbing hold of the sides.
Staring into the mirror the words of his boss clicked like a toddlers puzzle, he had a meeting with Soviet today at ten, at a local coffee shop, running his hands through greasy hair, he turned, stepping out of the bathroom and went into his room. Narrowing his eyes to better look at the clock it was 9:23Am which means he had a solid 32 minutes to get ready. Grabbing a clean white button up shirt, black vest, tan pants, clean pair of underwear, he grabbed a towel and went back into the bathroom. Placing the clothes in the sink, and flushing the toilet which he forgot to do, he turned on the shower. He preferred scalding showers especially when being hungover, primarily it woke him up.
The water hit his skin, simmering as it rolled down, he grabbed his lavender shampoo, he remembered how his mother always used to wash his hair, rough with little care, so he decided to copy and he dug his nails into his scalp spreading around the shampoo in his hair before repeating the process to wash it off, doing the same thing with the conditioner, but instead of washing it out he just stood there letting the water solely rinse out the conditioner, having some of it fall into his eyes burning them, washing his already red skin because of the water he dug his fingers into his skin as he washed his body off, when he was done he turned the water to the opposite side letting the once scalding water be ice cold, after three minutes he turned off the shower grabbing the towl and dried off, then he got onto the scale set aside in between the shower and toilet… he dried off his hair which had gotten to his shoulders by now.
Now the hardest part was his wings, he had beautiful finally healed from years of damage wings that looked like bald eagle's wings, it was how he could teach Japan and Germany how to take care of their wings, and since he isn’t at his house he mused that they were hopefully taking care of themselves.. Besides that he needed to spend time preening his wings, which he didn't spend too much time on since he still needed to get dressed
First he got dressed adjusting the clothes with little to no issues, besides the usual major discomfort of hiding his wings under his clothes to appear normalish. The clothes were crisp enough to account that he put in effort. Grabbing his comb he started combing through his hair, which had gone from straight, curly to wavy, so far it has stayed wavy and fell in line to how his brother canada kept his hair. Shaking off the thought of family, his boss had apologized for the sudden meeting on christmas but he couldn’t have been any more happy to have something to do.
He had messed some things up with his mothers and siblings so it was best not to disturb their Christmas. Shaking off that thought too he opened a drawer, grabbing a comb and scissors.. Then he paused setting the scissors back down into the drawer, his boss always told him that his hair was unruly to have long, and looked better short that it looked more masculine, especially since he was a measly 5’6.. In the end it was his hair, he combed through it and looked in the mirror seeing a blurry reflection, then he remembered he didn't know where his glasses were exactly.
Spending so much time that was unnecessarily spent on finding his glasses, he tripped on a lot of random things that laid on his floor, he shoved them back on before glancing at the time, 9:50Am tching slightly he grabbed random black boots tying them before quickly going back to his room. Looking in the mirror he looked actually pretty decent. Grabbing a satchel he carries everywhere, it was a nice beige green and had a canvas feel to them with country flag patching hand stitched on by his very own hands. Sighing to himself he turned and walked out, he didn’t have time to check the apartment for food.
Rushing to the door he grabbed the door knob and turned it, shoving the door open widely before slamming it closed behind him, locking the door then running down the couple flights of stairs, shoving his keys in his pants pocket and blending in with the messy crowd, keeping his hands in his pants pockets and his face down. He should’ve brought a coat or something. It was chilly out, he was surprised it was decently crowded for it being Christmas, but there were probably people like him who either didn’t have family or pushed their families away.
It took a few too many minutes to get to the café, it was a small, niche and probably a family owned cafe. Opening the door he got hit with warm air and a whiff of pastries and coffee stepping inside he looked around and spotted a familiar mop of albino white hair in the back corner, wearing too warm of clothes even for how chilly it might’ve been outside, walking slowly over he took a seat on the opposite side setting down his bag to the side of the chair. Both sat in silence for at least five minutes “so why did your boss ask for a meeting so randomly?” America asked because being the only two there the silence was far too loud. “Well you wanted to hang out? I asked my boss for a meeting so we could” Soviet replied with the same thick russian accent he has familiarized inside of his mind he just let out a simple uh huh.
“Do you want anything, like a coffee or a pastry?” he asked, remembering that Soviet was a visitor and therefore he needed to give hospitality towards the other, he saw Soviets gaze dart to the menu before making a thinking face “да. I will take a simple black coffee” the man said finally. He nodded and got up walking over to the counter who hosted an elderly lady, tanned skin, grey hair tied into a braid, brown eyes sunken yet kind. “Hola. What can I do for tu?” she asked, smiling, her teeth were a little crooked yet her smile was so sweet, it made his face start to smile too, she had a strong accent, It was like a mix.
“ah si, could i get a large black coffee. And a medium regular mocha, also two croissants por favor y gracias senora” he asked, he was rusty on his spanish because of the fact he hasn’t talked to Mexico in almost a year, going out of his way to leave the second world meetings ended and has made no contact to new mexico, arizona or texas, all who speak spanish fluently, he regrets not checking in on them really he does, mentally shaking off the thought when he heard the lady speaking. “Lo seinto senora.. Could you repeat that?” he asked, keeping his voice soft, she just smiled and waved it off “its all bein nino, the total es $9.77” she replied, he real quick added it up, his coffee was 1.40, the commies coffee was 2.81, that is 4.21 and the croissants were 2.44 each so 4.88, then adding up total coffee cost and total pastry cost it equals out to 9.77
“uno momento” he smiled back, going to his bag and crouching down, unzipping it and grabbing his wallet.Taking out a ten dollar bill, he got up and walked back setting down the bill as she put the drinks and pastries onto the counter “keep the extra change senora. Gracias” he nodded to her while grabbing the stuff and simply walking back to his seat sitting down, handing over the cup of black coffee and one of the croissants to Soviet who had just been watching patiently. “You got me a pastry?” Soviet asked when he handed the black coffee and extra pastry to the other. “Yeah, it's practically breakfast time. Also they were on sale, about one dollar each” he lied, and he knows that Soviet knew he lied yet didn’t bring it up.
“So how are your states?” Soviet piped the question after taking a drawn out sip of the coffee, having some of it drip from the man's chin. “They're fine. Honestly they grow up so fast it’s like I can barely keep up, how are your states doing? Hope your still giving them enough” he replied, blowing softly on his coffee as he waited for the commie’s reply, “they are doing much better, i’m kinda scared they will grow не зависеть on me” he answered, which was much to his surprise, unlike their conversations are prone to do Soviet answered quick. “If they do that’s no fault but your own. At least if they're independent, they won’t be failing if they grow apart from you” his words don’t even make sense to his own brain, he did not expect them to make sense to Soviet either yet when he looked up from his coffee the man nodded along to his words, but there was no comment. “You look different amerika. Your hair is long.”
He paused before his gaze focused solely on Soviet, “you noticed?” he wondered aloud, tilting his head slightly, a habit he picked up from hanging around Mexico. “Да, not hard not to notice, it’s to your shoulders after all. You typically keep it no longer than your ears.” The other shrugged, he hummed before picking up his croissant, silence fell upon the café as the two ate, he was a tad bit of a faster eater than Soviet, to be fair he wondered how the communist even had enough money to come here, now that he though about it, would the government truely send Soviet here. “Does it look good?” he asked, hoping for a yes, because he knows tomorrow he’s gonna have to cut it, he may go into his work with long hair, but he will be coming out of his work with short hair, “of course it looks good you capitalist of a pig.” He found himself not knowing whether to be offended or happy. Shaking off the confusion he looked into his wallet counting the amount of money. “I will be here for a week” he looked up with a puzzled expression and felt his body relax despite him not remembering being tense in the slightest. “Really? That’s oddly long” he set his wallet back in his bag seeing Soviet shrug “ i do not know, my босс maybe wanted me to sightsee” a rustle of his chair “ah.. Makes sense”
After the coffees were done so was the conversation. “до свидания amerika.” Soviet bowed his head, and he felt compelled to do the same “yes. Tomorrow you should come to the movie theater with me.” he real quick asked, standing up alongside the other who looked away before turning back with a smile that brought some unease down his spine “sure amerika.” he nodded thoughtfully before heading out
After Soviet left he took care of the area they were sitting at before grabbing his bag and heading out, opening the door and hearing the lady chime something behind him and the cold air hit his face infront of him. He walked down the street now a bit more empty, his stomach growled so he walked over, and grabbed hold of the door to a grocery store pulling on it to find it locked. Banging his head against it he groaned, dragging himself off and down the street turning in to the staircase, he climbed a couple flights, leaning against his door at the end, searching his pockets it took a minute to get out his keys but once he unlocked his door he quickly entered.
Shutting the door behind him, he made a quick trip to his bedroom taking off his shirt he let his wings fling out and stretch, grabbing a black turtleneck sweater he put it on, it had two large holes in the back so his wings could fit somewhat comfortable, coming out of the room he opened his fridge looking to find nothing, opening the freezer was the same story, all his cabinets were, typically he would drive over to Canada’s house and ask for some nice homemade food but, maybe not the best right now. Though he had found some alcohol in a cabniet.. He was only gonna by his way till he could order a pizza or something, grabbing a bottle of vodka he turned on a vhs tape of an old movie, turning it up before going to the spare room and redoing all the files he did last night. This was gonna be annoying.