Prove Me Wrong (Rusame)

Consequences

Narrator's POV

America was laying on the couch with a cold damp towel on his forehead. His skin felt like it was burning, his head had a pounding drum beating in it, and his mouth tasted foul.

Never think you can out-drink a Russian.

"Still bad, huh?" Russia came into the room, eating from a bowl. He looked amusingly at America, who looked absolutely miserable. Russia may not remember a lot of last night, especially the party, but he knew that America had helped him home. All he knows is from what his brother has told him.

"Norrrmally, it takes a lot of vodkas to do zat to someone. What else did you have?"

"Same as you, " America groaned, turning towards me. "Whatever Ireland made and a little less vodka than you."

Russia nodded, not remembering taking anything Ireland hand made himself. But, maybe that was a sign that he did. All he remembered was taking more vodka.

"Herrre." Russia held out a bowl of the food he was eating and motioned for America to take it. He looked at it curiously but took it anyways. He'd rather taste anything than what his mouth reeked of.

"It helps me whenever I get hangover." Russia sat down on the couch next to America. He absently nodded along as he eagerly ate from the bowl. Whatever it was, it wasn't his favorite but it was so much better then what his mouth already tasted like. It was kind of like oatmeal, actually. With a hint of honey.

"What is it?"

"Kasha." Russia sat back into the couch and closed his eyes. He was trying his best to remember what happened. He hadn't asked America yet since he was currently incapable of thinking. More than usual.

The beginning of the party, yes. Poland dragging Germany away, leaving Russia to earn twenty bucks for sure. Hanging out with America, Canada at one point, and Mexico. Yeah, that moment was weird. He had asked America about his brother and Ukraine. But that's where it got a little fuzzy. Maybe because he did take another bottle of vodka from Ireland when his own suddenly disappeared.

Russia shook his thoughts away and looked to America. He had almost completely devoured the bowl. He chuckled, finding that an amusing sight.

"What happened?"

America looked up, spoon in mouth. He made a confused sound and continued the bite he was in the middle of.

"Parrrty."

"Oh, " America swallowed his spoon full and set the bowl and spoon down on the coffee table in front of them. "Dude, you were gone. Like tripping over air gone."

"My blackout kould've told me zat." Russia raised a brow and subtly told him to give him something useful.

"Right. Right. Well, I tried to get you home and you ended up flirting with me."

"What?" Russia straightened out and looked to him confused and shocked. "What do you mean? I vould never do such a zing."

"Yeah, well, you did." America looked away and cleared his throat. "You called me cute." He failed to mention the beginning reason why Russia had even started that. As if he wasn't completely flustered to how hot Russia looked without a shirt on.

"Vell I vould never say zat to a guy, much less you." Russia shot back, clearly embarrassed with his cheeks warm. He wrapped his arms around himself tightly, as if to keep himself contained and others out.

"Aww, does Ruski think I'm cute?~" America teased, leaning forward with his chin on his hands. Russia pushed him away which had the other country laugh.