Black Coffee :|: America x Russia :|: Countryhumans

Act I, Chapter Ten

StarCipher, if you're here since I tagged you, scroll to the bottom :)

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"Well, shit."

America stood in the pouring rain, not really bothering to stay under cover. Even if he did duck for an overhanging tree or something, the rain would still manage to soak through, dripping on him through the canopy, no matter how thick it was.

Resistance was futile.

So instead, he plopped his bag on a park bench and dug through it for an umbrella, shielding its contents with his body. He was stupidly hoping that it would be there - even though it wasn't when he had checked before ending his date.

When he left it was already evening - he was surprised the sun had set so fast. Time flies when you're having fun, he supposed.

Frustrated and shivering, America gave up on the menial task and instead opted to just sit on the bench and watch the rain. As he sulked he let the soft buzz of the lamp illuminating him and the rhythmic drumming of raindrops lull him into calm.

"If you keep this up, you're going to catch a cold."

The words were slightly jumbled due to the thrum of rain in America's ear but he knew that stunning accent too well to not recognise its owner.

America smiled up at the tall countryhuman.

"Well, if it isn't my bestest pal, Russia! You really gotta stop leaving these meetings up to fate, bud."

Russia shrugged, taking a seat fairly close to America in order to keep them both under his large black umbrella.

"I'll stop when you tell me what's bugging you."

"'Bugging' me? That's surprisingly informal - for you," America snorted, shaking his head at his companion. "Jesus, I'm really rubbin' off on ya, huh?"

A smile crept onto Russia's lips, "you could say that."

America pulled his bag onto his lap to protect it from the rain with Russia's shelter, ignoring Russia's earlier question.

"Why are you at the park so late? In the rain, might I add."

Russia shot him a warning look, "answer my question, America."

"Answer mine," America retorted.

"I asked you first."

"I asked you second!"

"How does being second win in this scenario?" Russia queried with a raised eyebrow.

"First the worst, second the best."

The man next to him simply laughed and leant back on the still soaked seat; no doubt dampening both the seat of his warm pants and the back of his jacket.

"I will never understand Americans' weird sayings."

"Says you!" America grinned, thinking back to a picture Canada had shown him. (Pic at the start of the chapter)

"You have a saying that literally translates to: "Love is not a potato, do not throw it out of a window"."

"It's just the English translation that makes it sound stupid - everything sounds stupid in English ," Russia waved off - although he didn't bother hiding an amused chuckle.

America poked his tongue out at him and lightly punched his shoulder.

"No, but seriously," Russia brought the conversation back on track. "Are you alright?"