That's not me in the mirror (RusAme)

last chapter//chapter 18

Upon waking up, America found himself in one of the most comfy yet awkward positions ever, the golden hour sunrays shining proudly on the white walls.

The American tried to shuffle, but when he did, a discontented murmur of undecipherable words could be heard, protruding from a Russian who hugged America, not unlike a teddy bear.

America was shocked, to say the least. Well, who wouldn't be, after all? Russia's father, and Russia, were the ones who America had been playing almost nuclear buddy with during the Cold War, and the russian had plenty other reasons to not accept to be in... this... situation.

Russia mumbled something about the bed, and something about the sun being a b*tch. America grumbled, wanting to get up. 

So, America, being the logical countryhuman he was, whacked Russia.

"нет, американец, спи" Said Russian grumbled in response.

(google translate//Russian: No, American, Sleep)

America pouted, waiting for Russia to react and take realization of this, in the capitalist's opinion, gay scene.

But it never came.

After about an hour, America spoke up.

"Ya know dis be gae, right?"

Russia rumbled, chuckling silently. His mind was slightly foggy for he was still slightly asleep. So he wasn't really thinking very clearly.

"Aren't you gay though?" 

America pouted more at that comment.

"No. Bi."

America felt Russia shrug, and saw Russia's arm reach for the vodka bottle set on the bed-side table. America smiled, and grabbed the vodka.

Ignoring the one or two protests, America put the bottle on the ground, out of the Slav's reach.

"Let me go." America stubbornly said, not knowing what Russia would do next, but expecting, or rather hoping, for the Russian man to be logical and release him from the warm and comfortable- no! awkward embrace. But, Russia, yet again, never ceases to be surprise people. 

Russia rolled over America, being careful as to not crush the smaller country, and found himself facing America, who was blushing. And, with that, the Russian kissed the American, said American putting up no fight what-so-ever.

When Russia pulled away, now feeling as if he had done something wrong due to America's dumbfounded expression, somebody knocked on Russia's door.

America wiggled out of Russia's grasp.

"Dont'cha think you should go answer the door?" America said, nonchalantly, making an expression that explicitly conveyed the message;

'we'll continue this later'

Russia walked downstairs, and opened the door to find a still slightly drunk Germany, and a tired looking Poland besides him.

"Sorry Rosja, Niemcy insisted on going here... Is Ameryka here? Niemcy heard he m-might be here..." Poland stuttered, sounding apolagetic.

(Google translate//Polish: Rosja-russia    Niemcy-Germany    Ameryka-America)

Russia nodded, and led the two to his living room. Where America was, staring at a few pictures Russia had put in that room.

Germany rushed forwards, and started crying.

America looked up and his gaze went from 'oh hi Germany!' to 'Holy sh*t-'.

"What the!" a sudden realization hit the American.