[Fic] My Socks
My Socks
by Bleedred (Toilinthefields)
Last updated: December 26th, 2011
Characters: Russia, America
Pairings: Russia/America
Rating: Everybody
Genre: Romance, Humor
Warnings: Russia, America, socks, Russian language, Russian accents, implied homo-romanticism
Summary: Russia knits socks for America's Christmas present.
Written as a request for aluox for the hetachallenge 2011 Advent Challenge
A quiet evening at home in front of the fireplace with nothing but tea and yarn for his company was Russia's ideal way to spend the evening in the winter. It was Christmas today... well, Christmas for most of the Western world. Russia still had about two weeks or so left to go until he and his family would be celebrating the new year and Christmas at the same time with little dolls of Ded Moroz. However, that didn't mean he didn't like to give other nations their presents in time for them to open them on their variant of the holiday. He'd sent out all of his packages last month, save for his sisters and such as they would all be opening them on the seventh.
Now, though, he was merely amused himself by making a pair of socks for himself. It wasn't just a need for socks, in fact, it was that he wanted to complement one of the presents that he'd handmade for someone else. Red yarn... White yarn... Blue yarn... He wove these together with needles and knots as he sat there, enjoying the fire.
Just as he was fully relaxed, sharp knocks echoed from the front door. These weren't just sharp. No, Russia couldn't be that lucky. They were obnoxious and that meant one of three people could be at his door. Denmark was not likely as they hardly ever spoke. Prussia was probably busy with Germany, getting drunk and bothering him. That really only left... and there was not surprise to be had on his face as he opened the front door to reveal...
America.
"Oh, здра-"
"Yo, Russia!"
Just as he'd opened his mouth to greet the American on this cold winter's night, he was interrupted... as usual. It was almost like America liked making sure that Russia could never exactly get a word in edgewise when they talked. He also seemed to like being louder than Russia, which wasn't exactly hard to do, but that wasn't the point. On the plus side, he wasn't unhappy to see America... just a little confused. He was sure that the much younger nation would be spending time with his family today, not standing on a frozen porch in Moscow.
Russia wiped the blank expression on his face away with a warm smile, as the sudden appearance of company, even though it was America, was not at all unwanted.
"Welcome, come insi-"
"Don't mind if I do, bro!"
Russia's mouth clamped itself shut again as he was once again denied the right to finish his sentence. America more than happily pushed his way into the house, as though he just kind of assumed he could get away with that. Unfortunately, Russia was just enabling him by allowing it. He sighed, closing the door after his unexpected guest.
"To what do I owe this vi-"
"Oh, dude, are those for me?! SWEET!"
America pointed at the half-made socks and needles that Russia had neglected to set down when he went to answer the front door. Red and white stripes currently dominated the color scheme, but a field of blue with little white stars began to appear in the pattern at this point as he was almost done with them. Russia started to tell America that, no, these socks were in fact for himself, but he was cut off once more before his point could get across.
"They're a replacement for the weird ones you already sent me, right?"
"Er... what?" Russia raised an eyebrow as America began reaching into his own pockets, apparently fumbling for something. He pulled out a finished pair of socks, also done in red, white and blue but... in three solid stripes.
"I think you made me your flag by mistake, dude. I can see how you'd mess that up since we have the same colors and everything, so I'm not upset, I just wanted to make sure you got these back and everything since-" America went on a rant about flag colors and socks and proper ownership of socks with said flags, etc. Russia could feel a headache coming on. Sure, they'd gotten to be friends at this point, but that didn't make America any less annoying.
"So... those are for me, right?"
Wait... silence... That meant he could talk! The calm, smiling expression on his face faltered slightly as he felt his cheeks go slightly red and warm, heart deciding now was a great time to flutter about like a bird.
"Well, Amerika..." he began, holding up the socks, "These are... actually for me..."
The confused expression and stunned silence from America were a first, so he continued.
"You see, I wantet... us to be better frients ant I thought that... um... I wantet you to be my socks."
Oh... wait... why did America suddenly look incredibly disturbed? No! No! No! That wasn't the response he'd wanted! Did he say something wrong?
"You want me... to be your socks... What the hell is the matter with you?!" Oh... now he looked angry. Russia felt his heart sink as he realized that he'd messed up what he'd wanted to say.
"I meant that I wantet us to haff somethink off each oth-"
The front door slammed shut as America disappeared into the evening. Russia frowned as his arm was extended towards the door from when he'd continued talking and following America until his departure.
He looked down... seeing the little Russian flag socks that he'd made for America laying on the floor next to the door. He could almost feel his heart begin to break when suddenly the door flung itself back open with an American charging in. America snatched up the fallen socks from the ground before turning around to leave again.
"I dropped my socks, bro, don't mind me..."
The door hit its frame once more and Russia didn't feel... quite so sad.