I Seem to Have Lost my Number, Could I Borrow Yours? Or not, it's Fine... (1a/1)
anonymous
July 25 2010, 06:44:27 UTC
Canada wondered if he was a masochist. After all, what sane person would fall for a person who sat on them because they had not seen them? None that he could think of, that was for sure. True, many people seemed to not know who he was, but they at least saw him or managed to realize that he was there when they looked hard enough. Russia had completely failed to notice that there was another person in that chair. And now all Canada could think about was him. He wondered if he was becoming like Belarus, but at least he didn’t follow the other around or threaten the people near him. Sure, it did hurt to see her all over her brother, but who was he to get in the way of their family matters? So Canada tried to ignore Russia as best he could. Not that he was successful. Russia was a large country and he always seemed to hover around people who wanted to avoid him, whether he could see them or not.
It had gone on this way until after one meeting, Canada had stayed after to clean up. He had hosted the meeting and several people had forgotten all about it, leaving the ones who were there frustrated and it had turned more lively than the average meeting. At one point, England and France looked like they were going to have a duel with a set of ballpoint pens (the only sharp objects in the room) and Russia was only too content to sit back and watch amusedly. It only ended when Germany interrupted to point out the fact that he couldn’t remember who was running the meeting and insisting that they all probably read their schedules wrong. Canada had been too shy to interrupt and was thankful that Germany had intervened if only to ask everyone to leave.
Sorting through an upended stack of papers, he was startled by a noise behind him. He turned quickly to see Russia looking through a similar stack. Russia was muttering something to himself in his native language and it was fairly obvious that he had not seen the other man in the room. Canada cleared his throat hoping to alert him of his presence but the Russian didn’t notice or didn’t care. Frowning, Canada wondered if Russia would ever be able to see him. However, he was going to give it one more shot. Blushing furiously, he walked over and stuttered out the first thing he could think to say. “Um, excuse me. I-It seems I’ve lost my phone number, c-can I borrow yours?”
And the unthinkable happened. Russia turned, face abnormally blank, and stared right at him. “What?”
“Oh, well, I was w-wondering if I could have your phone number but if you don’t want to give it to me that’s fine too, I guess, I mean I wouldn’t give my phone number to people just randomly like that after all it’s rather creepy but I thought I would try and see you know, if I could get your phone number but you probably think I’m creepy so, well, maybe later, I guess but I just remembered that I left something in the oven at home and I should probably go get it before it burns.” Canada fled. He hadn’t been expecting the other to hear and couldn’t help but be afraid of what the other would do in response to a question like that.
Russia watched the man flee, utterly confused. “I vould have let him borrow it… after all, losing your phone number must be quite an ordeal.”
I Seem to Have Lost my Number, Could I Borrow Yours? Or not, it's Fine... (1b/1)
anonymous
July 25 2010, 06:45:48 UTC
It had been almost a month since Canada had seen Russia last, too embarrassed to show his face around him despite the fact that he doubted the Russian would notice him to make the connection to the incident. But he couldn’t avoid him any longer. It was time for another meeting and as part of the G8 he had to go. In an effort to avoid having Russia sit on him again, he made sure that he was late to the meeting in order to make sure a seat would be left open for him. It seemed the meeting had already started when he slid into his seat, blushing faintly when he glanced down the table to look at Russia. The other hadn’t noticed him. So far so good. A crumpled piece of paper hit Canada’s head and he let out a tiny yelp that went unnoticed by the others. Slowly, he unraveled the paper to read a note from his brother.
“Hey, bro! You commin’ to the bar later? Most of us are going and I don’t want you to get left out like last time. Who knows? Maybe we can get England drunk! Wouldn’t that be fun?! Come on! - America p.s. You will be telling me who is making you blush like that by the end of the night and whether or not they have a sister.” He resisted the urge to facepalm and glanced over at his older brother who flashed him a thumbs up before getting yelled at by Germany for not paying attention.
At first, Canada wanted to say that he would have nothing to do with it. After all, it was only too easy to get England drunk and when he was, he seemed to be under the impression that Canada was still his colony and kept shouting at America to be more like his brother and be a good little boy. No, he couldn’t have that happen again. However, it would be nice to take his mind off things and he and his brother hadn’t gotten to go drinking together in ages.
So it was thus that Canada found himself in a crowded bar with most of the G8 and a beer in his hand. It seemed everything was going well. England wasn’t too drunk, France wasn’t sneaking away in search of someone to warm his bed and Germany had yet to lecture the bartender on the beer selection. A few drinks in, though, and Canada was feeling just fine. Catching sight of Russia, he grinned a little to himself and walked over. “I know somebody that likes you a lot and if I wasn’t so shy, I would tell you who”
Russia turned and blinked at the tipsy Canadian. “Who?”
He paused before frowning and answering despondently. “It’s me… Canada.”
“Da, I know that you are Canada, but I meant who likes me?”
“Canada.”
The larger man simply stared. “Are you saying that you are Canada or that someone named Canada who is not you likes me?”
Canada pondered. “Is it hot in here or is that just you?”
“I am going to take that as a you are Canada and as a someone named Canada like me. But Canada is drunk so how am I supposed to trust him?”
“Canada is not drunk! He is just buzzed, yes… er, da…” Canada giggled to himself and drank more from the bottle he had carried over. “If I could rearrange the alphabet, I’d put U and C between F and K.”
Russia couldn’t help but laugh. “Are you still missing your phone number? Because I would let you borrow mine. Or we could look for it together…” It was his turn to blush as Canada paused and looked closely at him.
“Yes, I am. Maybe I could borrow it while we look, just to be extra careful.”
Nodding and smiling, Russia gently pulled the beer bottle out of his hand and set it on the counter. “We could start looking now, da~?” He took the other’s hand and started to walk out of the bar, Canada following, more than a little shocked at the way things had turned out.
It had gone on this way until after one meeting, Canada had stayed after to clean up. He had hosted the meeting and several people had forgotten all about it, leaving the ones who were there frustrated and it had turned more lively than the average meeting. At one point, England and France looked like they were going to have a duel with a set of ballpoint pens (the only sharp objects in the room) and Russia was only too content to sit back and watch amusedly. It only ended when Germany interrupted to point out the fact that he couldn’t remember who was running the meeting and insisting that they all probably read their schedules wrong. Canada had been too shy to interrupt and was thankful that Germany had intervened if only to ask everyone to leave.
Sorting through an upended stack of papers, he was startled by a noise behind him. He turned quickly to see Russia looking through a similar stack. Russia was muttering something to himself in his native language and it was fairly obvious that he had not seen the other man in the room. Canada cleared his throat hoping to alert him of his presence but the Russian didn’t notice or didn’t care. Frowning, Canada wondered if Russia would ever be able to see him. However, he was going to give it one more shot. Blushing furiously, he walked over and stuttered out the first thing he could think to say. “Um, excuse me. I-It seems I’ve lost my phone number, c-can I borrow yours?”
And the unthinkable happened. Russia turned, face abnormally blank, and stared right at him. “What?”
“Oh, well, I was w-wondering if I could have your phone number but if you don’t want to give it to me that’s fine too, I guess, I mean I wouldn’t give my phone number to people just randomly like that after all it’s rather creepy but I thought I would try and see you know, if I could get your phone number but you probably think I’m creepy so, well, maybe later, I guess but I just remembered that I left something in the oven at home and I should probably go get it before it burns.” Canada fled. He hadn’t been expecting the other to hear and couldn’t help but be afraid of what the other would do in response to a question like that.
Russia watched the man flee, utterly confused. “I vould have let him borrow it… after all, losing your phone number must be quite an ordeal.”
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“Hey, bro! You commin’ to the bar later? Most of us are going and I don’t want you to get left out like last time. Who knows? Maybe we can get England drunk! Wouldn’t that be fun?! Come on! - America p.s. You will be telling me who is making you blush like that by the end of the night and whether or not they have a sister.” He resisted the urge to facepalm and glanced over at his older brother who flashed him a thumbs up before getting yelled at by Germany for not paying attention.
At first, Canada wanted to say that he would have nothing to do with it. After all, it was only too easy to get England drunk and when he was, he seemed to be under the impression that Canada was still his colony and kept shouting at America to be more like his brother and be a good little boy. No, he couldn’t have that happen again. However, it would be nice to take his mind off things and he and his brother hadn’t gotten to go drinking together in ages.
So it was thus that Canada found himself in a crowded bar with most of the G8 and a beer in his hand. It seemed everything was going well. England wasn’t too drunk, France wasn’t sneaking away in search of someone to warm his bed and Germany had yet to lecture the bartender on the beer selection. A few drinks in, though, and Canada was feeling just fine. Catching sight of Russia, he grinned a little to himself and walked over. “I know somebody that likes you a lot and if I wasn’t so shy, I would tell you who”
Russia turned and blinked at the tipsy Canadian. “Who?”
He paused before frowning and answering despondently. “It’s me… Canada.”
“Da, I know that you are Canada, but I meant who likes me?”
“Canada.”
The larger man simply stared. “Are you saying that you are Canada or that someone named Canada who is not you likes me?”
Canada pondered. “Is it hot in here or is that just you?”
“I am going to take that as a you are Canada and as a someone named Canada like me. But Canada is drunk so how am I supposed to trust him?”
“Canada is not drunk! He is just buzzed, yes… er, da…” Canada giggled to himself and drank more from the bottle he had carried over. “If I could rearrange the alphabet, I’d put U and C between F and K.”
Russia couldn’t help but laugh. “Are you still missing your phone number? Because I would let you borrow mine. Or we could look for it together…” It was his turn to blush as Canada paused and looked closely at him.
“Yes, I am. Maybe I could borrow it while we look, just to be extra careful.”
Nodding and smiling, Russia gently pulled the beer bottle out of his hand and set it on the counter. “We could start looking now, da~?” He took the other’s hand and started to walk out of the bar, Canada following, more than a little shocked at the way things had turned out.
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