**lil important authors note this time

After a bit of waiting, and sulking from a few countries that won't be named.... Poland, Russia, and Lithuania, ahem, the group was off to the club. They all decided to rent out a fancy ass limousine for the occasion, because why the hell not? Why not go all out for such an extravagant event? The inside was as fancy as it could get, honestly, with champagne in the little coolers and the inside lined with red fabric. It was a sight to behold.

Inside the car, there were three main groups that sat by each other. Canada, Ukraine, and Latvia sat at the completely opposite end of the car then Americas group that consisted of America (of course), Russia, Poland, and Hungary. And, the unfortunate souls that sat in between the two groups that reeked of hatred for one another, always sibling drama, were the brother sister sibling duo of Czechia and Slovakia, with Lithuania in the mix. It all worked out though, surprisingly, with no unexpected fist fights happening between the two groups.

Each group was having their own discussion amongst themselves, as the car ride to the fancy place would take quite a bit from the NATO meeting building. Canada's group just discussed life in general, mostly among Ukraine and Latvia as the Canadian man sat back like an old dad at a barbeque listening and nodding along to their conversations. He'd of course, would add his input when it was necessary and make small and funny side comments when either of the two countries said something that was particularly funny.

The duo plus Lithuania were, of course, gossiping. Almost like they were back in highschool. The conversations would go from petty drama, to rumors, to shit that could get people thrown in prison for quite a bit. Honestly, no one knows how they get their hands on that kind of dirt but they were the people to go to for blackmail. Those three were the last countries some would think of to have such kind of material, but once you learned that they did, most people were kind of like "Oh, yea, that does make some sort of sense."

And finally, America's group. What a conflicting group of people and personalities! Russia and America were semi-close to each other, and Hungary and Poland? They were hard to catch alone, always by each other. Doing something, anything, too big to small to unimportant to extremely important. So, it was kind of two different groups. They still spoke with each other but mostly among themselves.

The two European countries were discussing something in what America thought to be Hungarian, shocking, while Russia and America kept their conversation in English. The two were gossiping, like most countries in the car, quietly. Gossiping about their brothers, who sat on the opposite side of the car. Russia and America agreed on one fact, and that is that they totally should get together.

"Bro, all I'm, like, saying is that your bro gotta thing for my bro, y'know?" America said in a hush tone towards the Slavic man sitting next to him. Russia was taking off his suit jacket and placing it in his lap. America watched intently through his sunglasses at this sudden fan service, as Russia also unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt like America had done before the meeting.

"Yea, I do agree. My brat never shuts up about him actually." The russian replied back in an equally shushed tone of voice, accent coming in thick.

"What the fuck does brat mean?"

"Brother, in a lot of European languages."

"Yea dumbass, its brother. God, these stupid fucking Americans-" Poland interupted. America gave him a playful slap on the arm. Poland matched the energy and acted offended, sticking his tongue out at him.

"How many languages use this so-called 'brat'? Y'know we have 'brat' kinda saying in English, which means like, an annoying and spoiled ass child."

"Like, I think we all do? You know, with slavic languages being so similar." Poland said before turning back to Hungary and continuing the conversation in Hungarian. America smirked back at Russia who was loosening his tie. Wow.

"Anyways, back to our conversation. Elaborate. Because, like, mine don't either. Swear to god that's, like, all I hear that dump maple fucker talk about!" America's tone of voice rose to a more neutral volume, glancing over to Canada and his newly wed. Thankfully, they were too engrossed in their conversation with Latvia to pay any attention to them. Perfect!

"Well, I hope you know Belarus. My sister, well our sister. Him and her always talk about that kind of thing. Belarus gives him that girly advice he needs to finally... woo him? I don't know if I used that right."

"Mhm, mhm." America put his hand on his chin as he nodded along to Russia, looking down every so often.. And coming to the realization hes a fucked up pervert. America also took off his jacket and tied it around his waist as Russia continued speaking. He had to admit, the heat had to be on in this car because it was hot as balls.

"Yea, everytime I'm cooking it's what they're talking about. No hesitation, every single time. It's like an obsession, just confess already. I don't know how someone who is MY brother is so oblivious to such obvious signs of something like that."

"BRO! ME TOO! I don't, like, meet up with him alotta the time but when we do I swear half our conversations are about it! Oh my god, don't even let me BRING up our conversations over phone. My brothers would agree with me if they were here."

"Speaking of your family, where are your other two brothers? Uh, Australia and..."

"NZ, New Zealand. Yea, I did invite them but apparently they got other shit going on and couldn't make it. Everyone so damn busy nowadays, like just chill out a bit, y'know?

"I guess, I do feel bad for the countries overrun with work."

"Like, poor Germany. I invited him along but he said it'd take wayyyy too long so he's hitting up some shitty bar with shitty beer then sent back to slave away in a office cubicle."

"Why is everyone run over with so much work anyway? Nothing special is going on anytime soon, very confusing."

"I dunno man, but to change the subject. Belarus. Why ain't she here? Don't your entire family got relations with God?"

"Yes, technically, I guess. Belarus is still sort of young, well younger, so she sort of keeps to herself most of the time. She's back home, doesn't really leave it much. She only goes to these meetings or reaches out when it's a very desperate time, if that makes sense."

"Oh, yeah, totally makes sense. Eh, everyone comes around to it eventually."

"What about your family America? Since you like prying so much." Russia playfully said, smirking at America. America looked Russia up and down in a lighthearted manner, thinking of a dumbass sarcastic comment to say.

"Man, if you really wanna pry into my life, get me like four drinks in."

"You people are such lightweights, if it only takes four then I guess I'll be getting the full story, huh?" Russia laughed while America tsked.

"Nuh uh! I can handle my alcohol extremely well thank you very much! Watch me jackass! Watch me.. Mister.Vodka."

"You did just call me "Mister.Vodka '', you challenging me to a drinking contest? I'll wipe the floor with you!" Both of the countries laughed, and so did some of the others who accidentally overheard their conversation. Tonight is going to be a fun one, and America is glad Russia is finally getting his head out of his ass and socializing! God, he should take a picture so it lasts longer. The two of them talked the entire way there, until the car came to a complete stop and the door was opened.

All the countries piled out of the car, leaving Russia and America to be the last to leave. Once America's still untied boots hit the ground of the outside he felt the cold autumn air of the night hit his body full force. He scrambled to put his jacket back on, as Russia watched him and laughed.

"The hell are you laughing about?! It's cold, how are you not freezing, you fucking.. uh... you fucking bear? Yea, let's go with that. Dumb fucking polar bear." Russia continued to laugh as America zipped up his hoodie, phone still in its familiar place in his pocket as America violently shoved his hands in there.

"Do you know how cold Russia gets? This is nothing, childs play even! Also, I prefer the nickname 'ovtsebyk' if you were to call me an animal." Russia continued laughing as America's face contorted into that of confusion.

"What fucking witch spell did you just put on me with that word? What the FUCK did you just say, actually?" The group started walking in the club, being let in with no hesitation, as the two continued to speak.

"An ovtsebyk is... huh. I don't know the word for it in English honestly. But, it's like an animal that lives in the cold." America looked dumbfounded as the group made their way to an exclusive looking area in the club, past all of the normal club goers and walking into the area. It was very fancy, in a way America couldn't really describe, kind of just had to be there to understand. The group sat in a booth kind of seat that was able to fit them all. America's group sat in the middle of the booth table while Canada and Czechias group sat on the outside.

Everyone ordered a drink, something to each their own tastes. The reason this club was so expensive is because they had "finest" importer alcohol from all around the world. Every country that had some kind of famous alcoholic drink was on this menu. New York obviously had to have a bar like this, great for business. And just America's luck that there was a drink for each country to enjoy.

It didn't take that long for the drinks to come out, but once they did everyone dispersed. Latvia and Lithuania ran off with each other, the two girls never to be seen again. And so did Ukraine and Canada, although Canada did say they were going closer to the music to enjoy it better. America found that to be bullshit, and so did Russia. And so, those two ran off with each other. Then the sibling duo of Czechia and Slovakia disappeared without anyone noticing! How do they do it?!

The original car group decided to stay in the surprisingly comfortable booth, sipping on their drinks as they made idle chit-chat. America was quite surprised with the drink quality, usually clubs like this overcharge for everything and the drinks are shit, but it's surprisingly good! The country got a bourbon mixed with soda water, why some might ask? Bourbon was always one of America's favorite alcohols, and sometimes with soda water it was just a bit better. The three slavic countries that sat around him laughed at the sort of odd choice the country made, when he could've gotten a cold beer instead of something mixed.

"OK ASSHOLES. If you think my cute little drink is bad why don't YOU all explain what you got. I'm paying for it anyway, so I think I have a right to know!" America said, crossing his arms and lowering his sunglasses so he'd make REAL eye contact with the jack asses that just insulted one of his favorite drinks.

"Sure, I got something called 'Unicum Zwack'.' If you, America, could try and pronounce that shit. It's from Hungary, obviously, and it has like 40% alcohol or something." Hungary proudly stated, taking another swig of the drink. America nodded his head in a matter that could be described as passive aggressive.

"Well you know, some of us here have really good tolerances to alcohol and aren't cowards like some of us here. Here why don't you try a sniff?"

"OK you dumb fucking nationalist just say what the fuck you ordered."

"I'm not telling you what it is, Amerika. But I will say, it can kill. Since, like, vodka was made in Pola- "

"Don't start that again." Russia cut off Poland mid sentence, Poland's eyes looked into Russia's brown ones. They both smirked, oh boy. Hungary looked over at America and gave him that kind of look that was just like "we're going to be here for a while." America gave the country a quick nod before taking a huge gulp of his drink, ready for the oncoming argument.

"I don't see YOUR people making a vodka that's 96% alcohol,"

Once Poland said that, America basically crawled over Russia to get closer to Poland's drink. The country had a devious smirk on his face as he put his drink closer to America's face. He took a sniff of the vodka, practically sticking his face in the already half empty glass. America immediately reverted back to his seat and began coughing violently.

"THAT'S NO ALCOHOL BRO! THATS LITERALLY JUST FUCKING BLEACH!" America continued coughing as he eyes began to water, pulling up his sunglasses onto his head to wipe off his eyes. The three Eastern European countries began to hysterically laugh.

"Told you-"

"THE HELL YOU DIDN'T. YOU DIDNT EVEN SAY WHAT THE FUCK YOU GOT-" America cut off Poland, then was cut off by his own coughing as he violently started to down his bourbon.

"What? Can you not handle your alcohol, America? Swear I overheard you and Russia talking about it in the car, dude." Hungary chimed in.

"No no no no, ya see... I'm... I ain't coughing because of the alcohol! Nuh uh, it's the pollution." Americas throat burnt as his now raspy voice spoke, everyone's laughter worsened as America also joined in.

"THE POLLUTION?!" Hungary and Poland said in unison, making Russia slam his fist on the table from how much they were laughing.

"Amerika, you don't have to lie, I have the second worst pollution rates in all of Europe and you don't see me hack out a lung." Poland said with a smirk, patting the other country on the back in a mocking gesture.

It took everyone a bit to calm down, and another order from the waiter for new drinks. But, once everything was back to how it started the small talk continued between Poland and Russia.

"Yea, like I was saying before our friend here started dying," Poland paused, Hungary sighed, America placed his sunglasses back onto his face, Russia eyed poland. It was now a contest.

"Dude, you're really gonna try and debate Russia right now? Remember the last time you both did that?" Hungary commented as both countries blankly stared at him.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yea, I don't have the slightest clue." Both the slavic countries said right after another, America took another sip of the same bourbon drink he had before as he began speaking.

"Wait wait wait wait, Hungary, elaborate. If I hear anymore arguing I might piss myself." America continued sipping his drink as Poland and Russia shared a glance, Hungary smirked.

"Why, but of course Mr.America!" Sarcasm reeked from Hungary's voice, with a hint of snarkiness. Poland and Russia both looked away from the group, drinking their drinks and acting like they couldn't hear this current conversation.

"The last time these two fuckwads had this argument, they got banned from this bar, right? Hell of an embarrassment! They weren't even drunk, like two drinks in, even more embarrassing they got banned sober! Over something stupid to,"

"Somethin' stupider then fuckn' vodka, bro?"

"Oh, way more stupid dude! You should've seen it! They were arguing about-"

"That's also enough for you, Hungarian bastard." Russia said as America laughed.

"Fine fine, then why don't you drive this conversation then? What do you have planned dude?" Hungary questioned, Poland was still looking away. Clearly embarrassed with the two empty glasses of "bleach" in front of him.

"Why don't we do shots, yea? America DID challenge me with that tolerance shit, and I need to prove a point." Russia stated, America finished his bourbon and slowly blinked behind his sunglasses.

"For all of us or just.. us two?" The country questioned, taking off his favorite jacket and placing it right next to him where his beloved brother sat for those few minutes.

"I'll pass, Poland will as well." Hungary said while Poland nodded along with what he was saying. Poland clearly wanted to not repeat the last bar situation, sober or drunk.

"Whatever more for us! Watch me! I will totally win this." America said proudly, as Russia ordered rounds of shots. Around five rounds in one sitting, "just to start us off" as he put it.

That has to be against some kind of regulation, but when would the law apply to the physical embodiment of countries? The answer is it doesn't. So, the worker reluctantly brought them over and sat them in front of Americans and Russians. The slavic countries all shared a glance and smirked, as America mentally prepared himself for the oncoming torture he just put himself into.

"What alcohol are the shots, Russia?" Hungary questioned, Russia smirked in response.

"Vodka, he gave me the freedom to get whatever."

"That's, like, totally an unfair advantage, asshole." America crossed his arms, staring at the glasses that sat in front of him.

"I don't want any of your girlie alcohol, we are going to do this like men." Russia stuck out his hand towards America, which America took and shook. Let the games begin.

America and Russia clinked the first glass together and took the shot, Poland and Hungary watching on in assumement. After the first one, there was no time to recover before the next one. Then the next one. Then the final two. America put his arm onto the table as he felt Russia's glance on him, these goddamn alcoholics.

"What? Are you already feeling it? Thought you would, what did you say again... 'wipe the floor with me' what happened Ame?"

"I hear your liver screaming, you dumb fucking.. Alcoholic. I can hear the alcohol from 1991 in your system still screaming for relief."

"That didn't even make any sense, but OK! We can always stop Ame.. and call me the winner."

"HELL NO! GIMMIE ANOTHER ROUND!" America yelled, as Russia ordered another few rounds.

Surprisingly 7 shots of pure vodka in America didn't pass out. And... the shots were finished. America had his head in his arms on the table, was he drunk? Who knows! He hasn't passed out, just feeling it a little too hard. Russia tapped him on the shoulder and probably said something snarky as America swatted him off after a few seconds, his head hurt.

"Ame, you OK?" Russia questioned, as the drunken bastard could hear the other two countries speaking with each other. He lifted his head, placing his sunglasses onto the top of his head lazily. Letting his eyes adjust to the lighting, the seemingly early 2000s American club music blasting faintly in the background, all the bright colors, it was really fucking with him. He rubbed his eyes, blinking slowly at Russia. He can feel how hot and probably red his face was.

"Ame...? Where'd ya'.... you get the nickname from.... man?" His speech patterns were slowed and a bit slurred, he could see the Russian man laugh a bit as he rolled up his sleeves.

"Everyone calls you it, dumbass. Are you doing alright?" America picked up on the Russian accent, and realized he really liked his strong thick accent when he spoke. Kind of soothing him in a way he couldn't describe.

"Mhm.. my head just, like, hurts y'know? It's also like, really really hot... in here.."

"Haha, yea, I thought that was just me. Do you want to get some fresh air or something? Would that help?" Russia placed a hand on America's back. It took the dazed country a minute to pick up on that but once he did, he looked away from Russia, feeling his face getting ever so redder. He leaned into the touch, and basically flopped himself into Russia's side. He could hear the chuckles and giggles from Poland and Hungary, or maybe he was imagining that. He could feel Russia sigh as America replied with a small "mhm."

Suddenly, Russia's body weight shifted past America, and before he knew it, he was hoisted onto the Russian man's back. Russia's suit jacket was tied around his waist and Americas was slung over his other shoulder. Russia grabbed the sun glasses America loved so deeply and placed them in his shirt pocket.

"Don't have too much fun!" Poland said, him and Hungary laughing.

"If you see Ukraine, tell him I left. I'll message him once I bring this fucker back to his house."

"Sure man, get there safely." Hungary commented before continuing his conversation with Poland. America felt Russia begin to walk, walk where? America was confused. Oh well, at least if he was getting kidnapped it'd be by an asshole he knew and lo- no, not loved. Being drunk does a lot to one person. America tucked his head onto the shoulder where Russia had placed his hoodie, burying his face to keep his eyes out of the bright lighting. What a vampire.

He felt Russia huff a bit, not out of exhaustion, but out of amusement. Arms still tightly around America's legs, keeping him steady as they made their way out of the club. The cold air brushed onto America's body, making him shoot up in surprise. Russia again laughed, placing him down to wake up a bit more. America still held onto Russia, sort of, for support as he was gently placed down.

"Feel better?" Russia said as he handed America his sunglasses and jacket. He put them back on quickly, and checked for his phone. Once he had everything, double checking, he looked over at Russia.

"Yea, I wanna.. go home. Take me home." His head pounded as he began walking right next to Russia. He thought to himself, how embarrassing this really was. America was older than Russia by maybe a few years?? But then America thought of how countries really age, but they're the same mental age? But.. he doesn't really know? America had so many philosophical questions as Russia led him back to his penthouse, on foot. Russia had been to the Americans house before, quite a few times, and was seemingly good with directions. He didn't have any USD on him anyway for a taxi, so walking was their best bet.

America's mind was fuzzy, and couldn't comprehend or remember any of the walk. But suddenly he was at the door of his apartment, out of breath and tired. They should really get that elevator fixed, walking up so many flights of stairs is such a chore for America. Even more of one because he was drunk.

"Where are your keys?"

...America didn't respond.

"Ame." Russia said sternly.

Nothing.

"Ame." He repeated, placing another hand on his shoulder roughly.

"....huh?"

"Your keys? Open the door."

"Oooooohhhhh... OK Russ..." America slowly reached for his keys, taking him a bit to unlock the door.

"Russ? Where'd you get that nickname?"

"Mmmmmm.... my mind?" America said nonchalantly, smiling cheekily as he unlocked his door.

The two of them slipped inside, America throwing off his shoes as he ran to his bedroom. Throwing himself onto the familiar mattress and just... lying there. His head still hurt, and he was sort of glad he wasn't one to really puke after drinking a lot. He could hear Russia walk into his room as he began to take off his sunglasses and jacket, tossing them to the side.

"Do you mind if I stay the night? Just to make sure your little feeble body doesn't die from alcohol poisoning." Russia let out a small laugh as America began to unbutton his shirt, to the best of his ability. He fumbled over the buttons a bunch and didn't even untie his tie, he just kind of slipped it off. He nodded.

"Hey.. asshole! Don't watch me change.. ya' can sleep on the couch creep."

"Alright, alright, just tell me when you're done."

"....OK?? What do you have planned.... Huh?" America questioned, slipping off his fancy white button-up shirt and throwing it in the same direction he did with his hoodie. Completely contradicting what he just said. Russia stared at him, unreactive.

"I was going to ask if I could steal a t-shirt, or something, but I can manage."

"Mhm... also stop staring... ya' like what you see or something??" Flirtatious, smooth America, very smooth.

"No, I just didn't know you had a chest tattoo like that."

"You can get a storytime another day... you sure ya' don't like my ripped bod'?"

Russia turned his gaze to the floor, America burst out into a fit of drunk laughter.

"Nothing to be ashamed about!! All the... ladies... and guys!!! Can't forget them!!! They all agree... America got a sweet... body.."

"I'm sure they do," Russia looked up at America again, looking at all the scarring and his "sick" chest tattoo. What was this tattoo? It was an eagle of course, but isn't that stereotypical. Very cute looking, fit his personality.

"Good night, Ame." Russia flashed a quick smile that America thought was cute. Russia walked out of the bedroom in a hurry and softly closed the door behind him. America's face was hot, and just not because he was drunk. He slipped off his belt and threw it in the same direction again. Falling into his bed. If he could, he would react like one of those girls from the 80s when their idol talks to them on the radio. He was so flustered, and tired, and he is finally coming to terms with his feelings. What a fine night to be drunk.

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hhhhiiiiii, nect chapter is gonna be delayed by a week bc i'm on break and got irl shit going on. yea that's all