Chained Together (Rusame)

Welcome Home 2 (with an entourage)

Russia blinked himself awake when the car stopped. Hopefully that meant they had arrived at America's house, and not that something was wrong with the car.

America was still sleeping atop him. Russia pushed him over a little bit and looked out the window. They had pulled up to a large, mostly white house. It was really big, like mansion big. Why would America need a house this large?

But then again, this was America he was talking about. He has an extra amount of everything— anything he has is always superfluous or extravagant for no reason.

Russia worried that America wouldn't wake up, but with a little shaking, he finally stirred.

"Wha d'you want..." He mumbled, his face still pressed against Russia's chest.

"Wake up. This is your house, да?" Russia shook him by the shoulder again.

America jerked awake at the sound of his voice, sitting up straight. His memories seemed to come rushing back. "Wait, I fell asleep?!" He looked at Russia slack-jawed.

"Да," He repeated. He didn't mention that he had fallen asleep too.

"And you didn't kill me?!" He continued to look absolutely gobsmacked.

"Well, no. Canada would've immediately murdered me if I hurt you," Russia explained, glancing over to his taller brother. He drew closer to America's ear. "I can kill you later, though." he whispered. He didn't know why he did that. It sounded like a threat, though, right? Because if anything, that's what he was aiming for.

America's eyes widened, and he was silent, just staring.

Russia's face flushed, and he immediately felt stupid for saying that. That was obviously a stare of judgement. His threat must have been so cringy that the star-spangled country didn't even deem it worthy of a response.

Finally, America spoke. "We'll see about that." His tone was humorous, and he had a small smile on his face.

He was glad he didn't know America's thoughts. He didn't want to know what was going on in his head. Russia realized that they were talking while America was still sitting on his lap. "Er— well, if this is your house, then can we get out now?"

America peeked out the window at the grand house, and then threw open the door. "Yup!"

They both got out of the car, hearing a chorus of "bye"s from those in the vehicle. Russia sent one last look to America's friends, who were still parked next to the curb. They were likely going to watch them until they entered the house, and then drive away.

They walked up the driveway to the house. He couldn't help but notice that America had a triple-car garage, with two brightly colored cars parked on the side of the house as well. "Who needs that much parking space?!" He scoffed.

"Um, me." America retorted.

"For what?! Bombs?" Russia gestured dramatically.

America shot him a look that said, 'are you for real right now?' But his mouth said, "Where else am I gonna keep my cars?"

"CARS PLURAL?" Russia grabbed America by the shoulder, twirling him to be facing him, and looked him in the eyes. Obviously he had seen the two cars outside the house, but he was apprehensive to learn if there were more in the garage.

"Yes?" America tensed under his hold, his shoulders coming up closer to his ears.

Russia blinked meaningfully at him. "One is enough, surely!" Russia stopped talking after that, seeing him as a lost cause. He looked out to the lawn, where the grass was a lush green. That's probably the most perfect grass I've ever seen.