Book 3 - Retrievers

XIV - Cat

Russia settles on the couch and America sits down next to him. Russia leans back, and America leans his head on Russia's shoulder. Russia smiles and throws an arm back around America's shoulders. America nuzzles his side and goes quiet, entranced by the cartoon playing on the screen.

"Hey, how are y'all doing?" Dixie asks, leaning over the back of the couch.

"We're doing okay," America replies, "I'm just enjoying my boyfriend's company."

"No need to rub it in," Dixie says with a laugh, crossing his arms.

"What? I thought you didn't care for any romance."

"Just cuz I don't have a romantic bone in my body don't mean that Imma let you show off."

America laughs and tucks his face into Russia's side.

Russia finds himself just absorbing the atmosphere, and almost doesn't notice the soft blue glow surrounding them. He leans his head over on top of America's and takes a deep breath. Content happiness, the kind that he had not known for a long time, rushes through his mind, and he relaxes almost completely.

"What are you doing?" America asks.

"What do you mean?" Russia asks, opening one of his eyes.

"You were doing something," America tries to explain, shaking his hands, "Like...."

America begins rolling his R's, as if to mimic the noise. Russia sits up and stares, confused.

"What Dad is trying to say is, were you purring? Like a cat?" Oklahoma interjects, popping up up over the back of the couch.

Russia immediately looks down and his whole face grows completely red. His stomach twists, and he slinks away. His heart starts racing in his chest and he tries his best to keep his breathing calm.

'I thought I stopped doing that!' he scolds himself, staring determinedly at the floor.

'This is mortifying.'

"Hey. I never said it was a bad thing," America says, sounding confused and a little panicked, "I didn't mean to make you upset."

"I'm sorry, I have to go," Russia says, quickly standing up and speedwalking up the stairs.

"Wait! Russ?!" America calls.

Russia hurries upstairs and ducks into his bedroom. He could hear America clumsily trying to follow, and he is half-tempted to lock the bedroom door. Instead, he goes into the connected bathroom and sits against the inward opening door, pinning it closed.

"Russia?" America calls from outside the room

Russia listens as America stumbles inside with unsteady footsteps and closes the door. He decides to focus on the now ever-present buzz that accompanies his hearing.

"Russ? Are you in here?" America asks, knocking on the bathroom door.

Russia hears him turn the door handle and feels the wood press against his back.

"Okay, I know you're in there," America says.

Russia looks down at the tile.

"I'm sorry if I made you feel bad," America says, sitting on the other side of the door, "I didn't mean to. I just... I don't have a filter sometimes."

"It's not your fault," Russia replies, "I thought I stopped... 'purring' like that when I was a child. It's an embarrassing habit, and I thought I would have been able to avoid doing it again."

"You've seen me do some shit like that. Embarrassing habits and stuff. I know you have," America says with a dry laugh.

Russia stays quiet.

"And honestly? Having a giant cat as a boyfriend is pretty cool."

Russia can't contain the laughter building in his chest. He tries to muffle his giggles with his hands, but going by America's victory cry from the other side of the door, he isn't doing a good job.

"Thanks," Russia says, trying to calm his heart rate.

"Why did you run up here anyway?"

"I panicked."

"Aww come on! I'm not that scary," America complains.

Russia smiles and shakes his head. He stands up and opens the door slowly. America rolls back a little before catching himself.

"Wow, thanks for the warning," America says sarcastically.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Do you wanna get packed while we're up here?"

"Sure."

Russia shoves the clothes he had managed to barter for from some of the taller states, and though they don't fit very well, it's better than nothing.

"We need to get you some stuff that fits you better," America comments.

America makes quick work of his packing as well, carelessly tossing articles of clothing into a black backpack. Russia sets the backpacks in front of the door and America sits back on the bed.

"Hey! Hey Rue-Rue! Check this out!" America says excitedly.

Russia turns around, not sure what to expect, and sees America gesturing to his chest. On top of his clothes is a light blue, half-transparent plate over the front of his chest. America turns around to show off that there is an identical plate on his back.

"See! I figured out a way to protect my chest! I'm hoping to have it healed up really soon though, so I shouldn't have to worry about it for much longer, you know?"

Russia nods with a proud smile.

"Now come here and lay with me," America says, leaning against some pillows propped up against the headboard.

Russia didn't have to be told twice. He lays down on America's stomach, carefully avoiding America's chest and bad leg. America lays Russia's hat to the side and starts gently tossing the hair underneath it.

"Your hair is so fluffy," America says, starstruck, "how?"

Russia grins.

"Can you do that thing again?"

"What?"

"The purring thing? Please?"

"Why?" Russia asks, feeling self-conscious.

"It's nice," America says defensively, "and it is so fucking cool!"

Russia relents and takes a deep breath. He forces himself to relax enough and it takes a few tries to keep from stuttering to a stop. But finally, he finds himself laid out and purring like a house cat. America continues playing with his hair before resorting to petting it and giggling to himself. And though Russia would never admit it, he likes the motion.

'Tomorrow is going to be strange.'

'But I can finally start looking for my brother.'

'I hope Ukraine is okay.'