Blue Lips 34
anonymous
March 13 2011, 05:34:35 UTC
“That would be awkward, da? And we will be together for a while. All I will do is help you stand up, you will at least be wearing your underwear.” Russia was smiling and America’s face turned dark red. “The shower is small,” he continued and shrugged, walking back to the kitchen. “I hit my elbow every day in there.”
“Might be why you’re so irritable all the time," Alfred murmured to himself, trying to divert the conversation. He cleared his throat while the kettle began to shrilly scream from the kitchen.
“I am not irritable,” Ivan retorted moments later, coming back from the kitchen with a steaming mug. He placed it on the desk he had been working at and then turned around to talk to America once again, frowning at the look of disbelief on the other’s face.
America rolled his eyes and then focused back to the ball between his fingers. “Yeah, sure you aren’t, ya big bear.”
“Bear?” Humming, the American tossed the ball between his fingers once more before squishing it slightly. “You snore like one. I could hear you through the walls last night.”
“I do not snore.”
“Yeah, you do.” He tossed the red ball between his hands quickly before tilting his head back to look at the other man. “Are you… pouting?”
“Nyet.” Russia sat back at the desk, pulling the paperwork close to him again. “I do not pout. That is what children or you do.” He huffed and pulled the scarf over his lips, glaring at the white pages.
Alfred held in his chuckle and looked over at the coffee table pulled close to him. The mashed bread was now sitting next to the pills and he quickly looked for something else. Finally catching sight of some book near the end, he reached towards it, grabbing the worn dark green book and pulling it into his lap. It was, thank god, a book in English and smiled at it in delight. The pages were yellow and the spine creaked as he opened it to see what it was. After scanning the pages quickly he glanced up in confusion. “What’s up with the book of fairy tales?”
Ivan tore his attention away from the paper work to look at the green book. “Ah, that is Anechka’s. She left it here last time.”
“Anechka?” Alfred questioned, putting the book back into his lap. “Who’s that?”
Russia scrawled out his signature as he returned to his paperwork. “My neighbor’s daughter. She is a single mother, so I watch her daughter sometimes.” He nodded towards the book, “Last time I read the stories to her.” When Alfred didn’t say anything, he glanced up.
“That’s really cool,” America said softly and flipped through the book, studying an inked drawing of a house propped up on chicken feet. “Bet she’s terrified of the stories though. Some of these are pretty freaky.”
“I leave some things out. She is only five.”
“Ah, so you are good with kids.”
“I would have to be. I am friends with you.”
“Ha, fucking ha.” Alfred muttered and stuck his tongue out at Russia’s smile. There came a knock from the door and both looked towards the entrance. “Guess Mattie finally decided to show up. Took his own frikin sweet time.” He placed the book back onto the table and picked the stress ball up.
Russia chuckled and got up to answer the door. “I am sure that he was only lost. He has not been here before.”
“Yeah, well. I’m still gonna gnaw his ankles off.”
“Formidable,” Russia said and answered the door.
--- Finally got a break from school to write and post this thing. Sorry for the lateness...college likes to eat my soul...but I hope you are all well what with the craziness with everything going on in the Pacific. Also thanks for the reviews and comments! They're really lovely!
A moment of idiocy strikes me again! I meant to have added 'and translated into Russian', somewhere in there. Sorry for the confusion there, I'll make that more clear and fix it when I eventually deanon.
Re: Blue Lips 34
anonymous
March 15 2011, 05:54:57 UTC
Oh haha. I was hoping to see an update for this today and so imagine my pleasant surprise when I checked the fills page.
Oh author-anon, you have no idea how much I love this fill. There's just something so warm and quaint with the way you write Ivan's and Alfred's interaction with one another.
“That would be awkward, da? And we will be together for a while. All I will do is help you stand up, you will at least be wearing your underwear.” Russia was smiling and America’s face turned dark red. “The shower is small,” he continued and shrugged, walking back to the kitchen. “I hit my elbow every day in there.”
“Might be why you’re so irritable all the time," Alfred murmured to himself, trying to divert the conversation. He cleared his throat while the kettle began to shrilly scream from the kitchen.
“I am not irritable,” Ivan retorted moments later, coming back from the kitchen with a steaming mug. He placed it on the desk he had been working at and then turned around to talk to America once again, frowning at the look of disbelief on the other’s face.
America rolled his eyes and then focused back to the ball between his fingers. “Yeah, sure you aren’t, ya big bear.”
“Bear?”
Humming, the American tossed the ball between his fingers once more before squishing it slightly. “You snore like one. I could hear you through the walls last night.”
“I do not snore.”
“Yeah, you do.” He tossed the red ball between his hands quickly before tilting his head back to look at the other man. “Are you… pouting?”
“Nyet.” Russia sat back at the desk, pulling the paperwork close to him again. “I do not pout. That is what children or you do.” He huffed and pulled the scarf over his lips, glaring at the white pages.
Alfred held in his chuckle and looked over at the coffee table pulled close to him. The mashed bread was now sitting next to the pills and he quickly looked for something else. Finally catching sight of some book near the end, he reached towards it, grabbing the worn dark green book and pulling it into his lap. It was, thank god, a book in English and smiled at it in delight. The pages were yellow and the spine creaked as he opened it to see what it was. After scanning the pages quickly he glanced up in confusion. “What’s up with the book of fairy tales?”
Ivan tore his attention away from the paper work to look at the green book. “Ah, that is Anechka’s. She left it here last time.”
“Anechka?” Alfred questioned, putting the book back into his lap. “Who’s that?”
Russia scrawled out his signature as he returned to his paperwork. “My neighbor’s daughter. She is a single mother, so I watch her daughter sometimes.” He nodded towards the book, “Last time I read the stories to her.” When Alfred didn’t say anything, he glanced up.
“That’s really cool,” America said softly and flipped through the book, studying an inked drawing of a house propped up on chicken feet. “Bet she’s terrified of the stories though. Some of these are pretty freaky.”
“I leave some things out. She is only five.”
“Ah, so you are good with kids.”
“I would have to be. I am friends with you.”
“Ha, fucking ha.” Alfred muttered and stuck his tongue out at Russia’s smile. There came a knock from the door and both looked towards the entrance. “Guess Mattie finally decided to show up. Took his own frikin sweet time.” He placed the book back onto the table and picked the stress ball up.
Russia chuckled and got up to answer the door. “I am sure that he was only lost. He has not been here before.”
“Yeah, well. I’m still gonna gnaw his ankles off.”
“Formidable,” Russia said and answered the door.
---
Finally got a break from school to write and post this thing. Sorry for the lateness...college likes to eat my soul...but I hope you are all well what with the craziness with everything going on in the Pacific. Also thanks for the reviews and comments! They're really lovely!
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The only thing confused me - did Russia really read the stories in English to the Russian five years old girl?
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Oh author-anon, you have no idea how much I love this fill. There's just something so warm and quaint with the way you write Ivan's and Alfred's interaction with one another.
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