danger danger will robinson

[littlestcommie]

Characters: Cuba and Russia
Location: Russia's room in the Communal.
Rating: ...I don't know. There's Russia in it.
Time: After Russia's post.
Description: Russia wants to see his comrade again and have a drink. Cuba doesn't recognize warning signs and is more than happy to provide the alcohol.

Comments

[hoarfrosted]

Russia, for the most part, has changed his clothes into something more appropriate for the weather in America's house. He would like to keep the coat and everything on, but the suffocating heat prevents him from doing that. So he ended up wearing a plain shirt and plain pair of pants. He kept the scarf around his neck, at least. It will not do to misplace it; what if he loses it, like he does to his heart from time to time? But the heart is still there, he can feel it beat, so therefore things are perfectly alright and nobody has to scream in pain. Yet.

He flips the communicator closed, for the meantime -- everybody is so happy to see him! -- and goes outside, looking left and right and everywhere around the floor while waiting for his comrade. He has scouted this hallway at night, looking for potential bugs and cameras, and has scoured his room as well. Nothing, so far, but the security in his temporary quarters need to be upgraded. He will not sleep with that lock, but at least he has taken to sleeping in bed with a knife.

[littlestcommie]

Cuba spots the other nation waiting as he comes up from the stairway, and wastes no time in hailing him. It's one thing to talk with someone over those glorified cell phones and quite another to see them in the flesh after weeks of absence. There was much to talk about and catch up on. How much of the city had he seen? It was funny, thinking of big Russia slinking around the place like a shadow.

"Haha, there you are! Nice to see you in the flesh, amigo." He grins, waving one of the numerous bottles at Russia as he approaches. It was nice to have one of his friends arrive for a change.

[hoarfrosted]

Russia tugs his scarf a little loose and smiles at his fellow country. "Hello, comrade," he greets him back, voice a little breathless because of the heat the heat this blasted heat, oh god, but he is Russia, and Russia has always endured. So he keeps the scarf around, but will at least make room for himself to breathe a little. "It's nice to see you as well. I've been lonely, walking around this city, familiarizing with everyone. My house is empty, comrade. It is also foul and I toiled cleaning it out. America hasn't been keeping himself well; I hope you have no problems, so far?"

Because he sure as hell will get involved. But oh, isn't that just the opportunity these bastards were waiting for? Patience, he gently reminded himself. In time, all things will fall into place.

[littlestcommie]

When Cuba finally reaches him, stops to stand a few feet away and really look at the other, what he sees makes him pause. Not for long and certainly not long enough to make the smile on his face slide off because Russia always could sense that kind of thing and he knew it, but long enough to make sure he wasn't imagining things.

There was something...different about Russia. It was in the way he spoke and carried himself, something strange and familiar all at once. But surely Cuba was just imagining things. The feeling passes as quickly as it came.

"Nothin' that I couldn't handle. I'll try my best to fill up the house a little - got more than enough booze to do it with."