Oneshots of Whatever (mainly Countryhumans) (Finished-ish)

67 - Silks 🇷🇺*soviet*

I love this ship too much

America knocked expectingly on the large oak door. The tall figure of Soviet stood in the doorway, looking down at the American.

"I'm here to speak to Russian Federation," America said, straightening his posture to try and look tougher.

Soviet cocked an eyebrow, "Why?"

His deep accent sent shivers of pleasure down America's back. "None of your business, Communist," America spat.

Soviet leaned down to be face-to-face with America, "It is my business, Capitalist pig. I am his father."

America leaned back, "Fine, it's about the Eastern Border."

Soviet stared at him for an uncomfortably long time before standing up again, "He is in the gym. Follow." He whirled around in a flurry of browns. America hurried in and closed the doors behind him, walking behind Soviet's quick pace.

The house was huge, pillars of white stone held the roof up and old-looking art hung on the walls. Windows reminded America of the frozen land Soviet, Russia, and occasionally his siblings lived in. How they did it, America doesn't know.

They stopped at a pair of large, wooden doors. "Wait," Soviet said sternly, slipping into the room. America, being curious, peeked in and his breath left him.

There was a huge gym, filled with gymnastics equipment and things even America couldn't name. What caught his eye was a figure hanging gracefully from a line of silk, their slim figure wrapped around the red material so their hands and feet didn't have to hang on. America almost yelped when the figure let go and tumbled to the ground, but caught themself. They wrapped their legs around the silk and turned over so America could see their face.

No fucking way.

Russia hung from the red silk, his back arched in a way that America had only seen females do. He hung upside down, one leg above his body, bent, and the other straight behind him.

"Russia," Soviet said in russian, but the author was too lazy to translate the whole conversation.

Russia yelped and grabbed the silks, his eyes popping open. "Yes, father?"

"You have a guest," Soviet said, holding out his hand. Russia took it gently and let go of the silk. America almost yelped again as Russia fell. But, he was caught by Soviet in a bridal carry. "America wanted to see you."

Russia was placed on the floor gently, "There wasn't planned meeting... He never asked to see me... Oh, well." Soviet kissed his cheek and let him go. America slipped out of the doorway and sat on the ground against the wall.

"He will see you in fifteen minutes," Soviet said, coming out from the room. "Follow."

"You gotta stop orderin' people around, dude," America said, shrugging with his hands in his pockets. "I mean, I know I'm your enemy 'n stuff, but still."

Soviet stopped quickly, so America ran into his back. "Maybe I should."

"Really?"

"No."

They continued in silence, America awkward the whole time. They stopped at another door, this one almost identical to the gym door.

"Wait here, and don't break anything or go through anything," Soviet said, opening the door. America stepped in and Soviet closed it behind him. America looked around the office, taking in everything.

The floor was dark wood and the walls painted light grey. There was a dark, wooden desk in front of a large window that showed the late afternoon light of the winter landscape. Two bookshelves sat either side of the window, holding books in various languages. On the other side was a small table of the same wood as the desk with a lamp, two candles, and a book.

America wondered to the book, peeking at it.

It was a gorgeous, leather-bound book with gold rimming the edges. A metal clasp held the pages together tightly. And on a golden plate sat the title.

Complete History of The Russian Empire and The Soviet Union

America gasped slightly and took the book in his hands, gently opening the buckle. He turned to the first page and saw there was inscription.

Dear my beloved son,
I will be gone soon, I know my time is coming. Please, treasure this as a reminder of who you are and your ancestors.
I love you, Russian Empire

Dear my darling Russia,
This book was once my father's, gifted to me. Now, it is your gift. I have added my own history to these pages, and I hope you add your own. Please, follow your own path and I will support you. You mean the world to me, little one.
With all my love, Union of Soviet Socialist Republics

America smiled slightly, flipping to the next page. The pages were tinted yellow with age and smelled of ink. The letters were all hand-written. You could clearly see the difference between Russian Empire's handwriting and Soviet's. The Empire's was more formal and swoopy, as Soviet's was less cursive and more printed.

America thumbed through the pages, his eyes catching on one page.

The Cold War

America closed the book as he heard the door open. He clasped it shut and placed it back on the table, turning around and seeing Russia in his usual clothes. A white shirt with light blue stripes, a big, fluffy jacket, and blue jeans with winter boots.

"What did you want to talk about?" Russia asked, closing the door.

"I wanted to talk about our... rather fragile relationship," America said.

Russia hummed, sitting at the desk. America sat across from him. "What about it?" Russia asked.

"I think we should try and get along more," America said. "It will be beneficial for both of us. What do you say, Rus?" He held out his hand.

Russia looked at America, unamused. "Funny," he said blandly. He opened the bottom drawer of his desk and pulled out a bottle of vodka. He opened it and chugged a portion of it. "I would laugh, but it wasn't that funny," he said in a monotone voice.

"I ain't playin' here, Rus," America said desperately. "Please? I'll... send you resources!"

Russia chuckled, "You're desperate, aren't you?" America pouted. "You want to have the whole world under your control," he continued, standing up and walking around the office. "My grandfather didn't make the mistake of trusting you. My father didn't make this mistake of trusting you." He leaned down and made eye contact with America. "But mistakes are those to be learned from."

"Is that a yes?" America asked hopefully.

Russia took a chug of vodka before nodded, "Yeah. But not allies like you and Canada. Allies like you and Mexico. Neutral. Repeat it. Neutral."

America saluted to Russia, "Neutral!" He kissed Russia's cheek and ran out the door.

Russia growled as Soviet came in, "That asshole."

"You did well, love," Soviet said, kissing Russia's head.

"But he kissed me," Russia whined, hugging Soviet.

Soviet chuckled, "That's the least of our worries."

Then, they fucked right there and then.

Words: 1169
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