Let's Just Be Human (Finished)

Chapter One: Oops.

It was a sunny July day, which would've been nice if it wasn't for the fact that America was wearing a suit. It didn't help that Moscow was disgustingly humid in the summer. It was almost as sticky as Michigan, and just breathing felt like inhaling water. America huffed, fanning himself with a hand.

Japan gave him an amused look. "Are you alright?

"Hell no. I'm regretting my outfit choice."

Japan laughed, tossing her braid of white hair over her shoulder. America called her Peppermint sometimes, because of the red streaks in her otherwise platinum blonde hair. "I can't relate. This dress is fantastic."

"Well, it's not socially acceptable for me to wear dresses to United Nations meetings."

"You act like you care about social norms."

"I most certainly do not- Hey! Rus!" America had caught sight of a certain tall country, who'd been walking out of the Embassy. When Russia looked for who'd called him, America saw that he was on the phone with someone. Not uncommon. What was uncommon was the guilty look Russia had on his face as he hung up and walked (more like stomped, Jesus Christ the man took heavy steps) over to them.

"Yes, America?"

"So I was thinking, we haven't gone drinking in a while." America couldn't fight the grin that came with that statement. Him and Russia were nowhere close to friends, but Russia was nice to drink with, and America could use a cold beer right about now.

Russia raised an eyebrow. "You want to go drinking? Now?"

"What better time than right after a meeting? Why, you chicken?" America knew the challenge would force Russia to agree. Despite all his nonchalance, Russia couldn't back down from a challenge. It was a fault America loved to exploit.

"Fine then. Who's driving?"

"Who said anything about driving?"

Russia shoved a hand in his uniform pocket. For whatever reason, he'd decided to wear his military uniform rather than a suit like the rest of the nations. "I did, because I do not feel like taking the Metro and getting robbed. Do you know how expensive replacing this uniform is?"

He did, actually, because he'd had to replace lost medals for his own uniform several times. "Fair enough. You drive, because I took a taxi here."

Russia sighed and gestured for America to follow him. America just grinned even more.
They drove in companionable silence, neither really having anything to say. Russia kept nervously glancing at his phone sitting in the console. America noticed this but didn't question it. The two weren't exactly friends, and since they were both constantly in touch with government officials, it wasn't surprising that he'd think America would go through his phone. Whether or not America actually would was a different story.

Finding parking in downtown Moscow turned out to be quite the spectacle. There were several сукаs and Чертов идиотs hurled at random passersby. None of the people actually reacted, which was a testament to Russian indifference. Eventually Russia managed to park the Lada about a block away from the bar, grumbling under his breath.

America found all of this incredibly amusing.
The bar itself was small, a hole-in-the-wall that looked like it'd been there since the Berlin Wall fell. America didn't mind this one bit. He disliked going to larger restaurants, because the stares he'd get from people unaccustomed to seeing Countryhumans were awful, especially in large numbers. He'd found that the hole in the wall restaurants were often better than the chain equivalents.

The bartender didn't give them a second glance when they sat down, instead happily chattering in Russian with Russia. America pretended like he didn't understand every word and instead looked over the menu. Once they'd both ordered (Russia had ordered plates of shashlik for both of them, loudly declaring that "it was the best damn shashlik East of Kiev"), they fell into casual conversation.