The Companion [8.6/?]
anonymous
May 28 2010, 18:08:26 UTC
"I knew it," America hissed, closing their distance in several hasty strides. His muscles twitched with a thirst for violence, wanting to wind their way into the folds of Russia's scarf and strangle him with it. Yet he refrained, if only from the instinctual fear of retaliation.
"Knew what, America?" Russia went back to looking at the counter, a carton of eggs displayed before him. America's anger fizzled into confusion and a sheepish embarrassment. People making quick getaways didn't stare at eggs.
"Uh, knew you were running away─" His words fumbled across his tongue, lurching back and forth in a tangled dance. "─to the kitchen!"
"What else would I be doing?" Russia asked coolly, picking several eggs from the carton and checking them for cracks.
"Nothing else, nothing at all," America said airily, possessing the loud and theatric air of one trying to hide their silly notions beneath a surface of normality.
"Are you having trouble turning the shower on?"
"Yeah," America answered, bordering on the snappish side. "It's all backwards and messed up." Regardless of the fact he had not even tried to turn the shower on, America knew to make it sound like a serious incident that needed immediate attention.
With nothing more than a simple nod, Russia lead the way back to the bathroom. America followed in his wake, transfixed on watching the sway and flutter of his scarf as it drifted obediently behind him. He nearly bumped into it once Russia stopped, just inside the frame of the bathroom, flattening against the wall to let America pass him. America stayed put.
"Now what is it you are having trouble with, America?"
"Um, well," America blustered, wondering if he should start a count of how many times Russia could say his name. It wasn't like America ever took the effort to refer to him as anything beyond 'buddy', and that was only out of habit. "It wouldn't work for me."
"It does that sometimes, usually when it meets new people." Russia coughed in a way that America fully suspected was really a rough laugh, causing a boyish shame to rise to America's cheeks, though he remained silent. As long as Russia wasn't going to slink off, he could say and do any weird thing he wanted to and America wouldn't bat an eyelash. Unless that got him closer to the front door.
America folded his arms, his head lowering in thought. Would Russia be susceptible to his charms? England sure was, and America didn't suspect that anyone could be more of a hard ass than England. But what if his charms worked too well, and Russia expected even more from America? An uninhibited shudder ran though America's body as he subconsciously edged away. The last thing he wanted was funny business with Russia.
He did miss the daily smiles, hugs, and occasional chaste kisses he was used to receiving, but there was no way America would stoop to Russia's level to get them in return. Not that is wasn't tempting. America was starving for attention and affection, and with how often Russia sat a smidge too close, how he always leaned in a tad too far, America was pretty sure he was just as hungry, if not more, for physical touch.
But Russia was a stupid lonely oaf, and America didn't make nice with stupid oafs, even if they really weren't all that dumb. America tapped his foot absentmindedly as he scratched off 'stupid' on his mental list of adjectives that described Russia. Completely and utterly insane fit him much better. He did have a touch of intelligence, if America was going to be honest with himself. Enough so that he could trick America into the shower while he sped off. Or made breakfast.
A pulling at his hand and the sudden contact of tepid water shook America from his thoughts. Russia was holding his arm beneath the shower head along with America's, his sleeves rolled up to avoid getting his clothes splashed. "Is this warm enough for you?" he asked, head bowed slightly to get a better look at America's face.
"I─ yeah, this is good." America blinked owlishly, still halfway stuck in his mind.
Russia released his grip, his hand moving instead to cup the side of America's face, fingers delicately stroking. "Now, why did you come fetch me from the kitchen?"
"Knew what, America?" Russia went back to looking at the counter, a carton of eggs displayed before him. America's anger fizzled into confusion and a sheepish embarrassment. People making quick getaways didn't stare at eggs.
"Uh, knew you were running away─" His words fumbled across his tongue, lurching back and forth in a tangled dance. "─to the kitchen!"
"What else would I be doing?" Russia asked coolly, picking several eggs from the carton and checking them for cracks.
"Nothing else, nothing at all," America said airily, possessing the loud and theatric air of one trying to hide their silly notions beneath a surface of normality.
"Are you having trouble turning the shower on?"
"Yeah," America answered, bordering on the snappish side. "It's all backwards and messed up." Regardless of the fact he had not even tried to turn the shower on, America knew to make it sound like a serious incident that needed immediate attention.
With nothing more than a simple nod, Russia lead the way back to the bathroom. America followed in his wake, transfixed on watching the sway and flutter of his scarf as it drifted obediently behind him. He nearly bumped into it once Russia stopped, just inside the frame of the bathroom, flattening against the wall to let America pass him. America stayed put.
"Now what is it you are having trouble with, America?"
"Um, well," America blustered, wondering if he should start a count of how many times Russia could say his name. It wasn't like America ever took the effort to refer to him as anything beyond 'buddy', and that was only out of habit. "It wouldn't work for me."
"It does that sometimes, usually when it meets new people." Russia coughed in a way that America fully suspected was really a rough laugh, causing a boyish shame to rise to America's cheeks, though he remained silent. As long as Russia wasn't going to slink off, he could say and do any weird thing he wanted to and America wouldn't bat an eyelash. Unless that got him closer to the front door.
America folded his arms, his head lowering in thought. Would Russia be susceptible to his charms? England sure was, and America didn't suspect that anyone could be more of a hard ass than England. But what if his charms worked too well, and Russia expected even more from America? An uninhibited shudder ran though America's body as he subconsciously edged away. The last thing he wanted was funny business with Russia.
He did miss the daily smiles, hugs, and occasional chaste kisses he was used to receiving, but there was no way America would stoop to Russia's level to get them in return. Not that is wasn't tempting. America was starving for attention and affection, and with how often Russia sat a smidge too close, how he always leaned in a tad too far, America was pretty sure he was just as hungry, if not more, for physical touch.
But Russia was a stupid lonely oaf, and America didn't make nice with stupid oafs, even if they really weren't all that dumb. America tapped his foot absentmindedly as he scratched off 'stupid' on his mental list of adjectives that described Russia. Completely and utterly insane fit him much better. He did have a touch of intelligence, if America was going to be honest with himself. Enough so that he could trick America into the shower while he sped off. Or made breakfast.
A pulling at his hand and the sudden contact of tepid water shook America from his thoughts. Russia was holding his arm beneath the shower head along with America's, his sleeves rolled up to avoid getting his clothes splashed. "Is this warm enough for you?" he asked, head bowed slightly to get a better look at America's face.
"I─ yeah, this is good." America blinked owlishly, still halfway stuck in his mind.
Russia released his grip, his hand moving instead to cup the side of America's face, fingers delicately stroking. "Now, why did you come fetch me from the kitchen?"
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