(read desc.)Countryhumans Oneshots

M!America x M!USSR(R/ER/F)

Word count: 878 words

The once pleasant morning turned into that of a sickly, headache-filled one. The sunlight was blinding and only made America's headache worse. He groaned and turned over in his bed, hiding from the morning sun. America hadn't had the best sleep, and submitted to another equally troubled sleep once more, for just as long.
He woke up again to his phone ringing. His stomach suddenly started clenching and churning, causing him to whine in pain and hold his stomach tightly. Was it something he ate? Or maybe some bacteria he picked up on his walk yesterday? Anyhow, he grabbed his phone and checked the caller ID. It was his boyfriend, Sov. His eyes burned and his eyelids felt heavy as he attempted to click on the 'accept call' with his shaky thumb. Sadly, he missed and accidentally declined it instead.
"Fuck.." he groaned as another wave of pain hit his stomach. He winced as he tried calling him himself. Thankfully though Sov attempted calling him again before he got to his contacts. He successfully accepted the call this time and held the phone to his ear.
"Hello?" America grumbled hoarsely.
"Привет, Ame. Why did you decline my call? Did I call at a bad time?"
"No, no, sorry. I misclicked. Anyway, what's up? Why you callin'?"
"You told me I could call you from 2, saying you'd be almost here and would be able to respond. Did you forget?" America realized what he meant and quickly checked his clock. It was 6:14PM. He groaned, covering his face with his hand and sighing out heavily. "Ame?" He held the phone back to his ear.
"Yeah, I did, sorry." He sighed. "Look, I don't feel so good, Sov. My stomach is killing me—literally—and I have the worst headache ever. My eyes feel like dropping dead and never waking up again and quite frankly I'd have to agree with them. I just feel like going to sleep and never waking up." There was a pause of silence.
"...Do you want me to come over?"
"Nah, that's fine. Don't burden yourself."
"...Ok."
"We can always try next week, yeah?"
"...Yeah."
"Ok. Bye, Sov. Love you."
"Bye, love you too, Ame." And he hung up. America dropped the phone with a sigh and intertwined his fingers on his stomach, staring up at the ceiling. His eyelids were still heavy, but he couldn't bring himself to actually fall asleep. He listened to the ceiling fan make its gentle noises for the next hour, letting it slowly lull him to slumber.

It was well past three in the morning when USSR finally reached America's house. The flight had taken roughly 8 and a half hours to get there. He used the spare key he was given to quietly unlock the door and walk inside. He took off his coat and the rest of his outside wear, including his shoes, and made his way to his lover's room to check up on him.
Just as he suspected, America was sound asleep. He went back into the living room and settled down on the couch. He'd wait 'til at least 6 to make anything for him.

America woke up and looked around groggily. He checked the time, which showed 6:55AM and groaned. He fell back on his back and stared up at the ceiling fan again. It was pretty dark in the room still, but the ever-so-brightening sky lit up the room in a dull blue glow. He was grateful, as it was much easier on his eyes than the blaring sunlight from yesterday. He's starting to question if it was even morning then, or if that was actually the afternoon sun trying to burn his eyes to a crisp. America started smelling something weird. It smelled of herbs and tea...what? Who's in his house? And what are they making?
His questions were soon answered when his bedroom door opened with a soft creak. He looked over to see USSR slipping inside with a steaming cup of something, probably herbal tea is his senses are correct. Then came the thought of 'what the fuck is he doing here?'
America watched him set the cup down with a glare, with was dampened by his sickly composure. He noticed he also had a thermometer with him.
As his boyfriend sat down beside him he couldn't help but break the silence.
"What the fuck are you doing here."
"To check up on you, of course," he replied simply, smiling a smile with a mix of smugness and feigned innocence. America rolled his eyes and opened his mouth after being prodded by the thermometer a few times.
"You wasted your money, and your time," he mumbled with the thermometer still sticking out of his mouth. It beeped and USSR took it out to examine it.
"I'd like to think the contrary, Meri." America huffed.
"Go away. I can take care of myself, easily." The taller of the two simply chuckled.
"I'd like to see you try. With that bad of a stomachache and a temperature of 102.4, it's gonna take much longer to overcome without me here, if you'll even last," he mused.
"Oh, fuck off." USSR just laughed.
"I love you too."