*authors note

America felt his body ache almost immediately when he realized he was awake. What time was it? Where was he? Why was he shirtless? Heavy emphasis on the last two questions that filled his mind, and frankly he was just hoping he was home safe and sound and that his shirt was safely on the ground. Suit shit is not cheap. How'd he gotten home, although, was way beyond him but at the end of the day if he got home he got home.

His entire body ached and his head pounded. One of those shitty hangover aches he usually got, he should just start crying now. And despite America's already extremely obvious and present light sensitivity issue, the room that he was currently in that has no lights presents and all curtains closed, was still somehow someway still too bright for him.

He groaned out of displeasure as he buried his face into the nearest pillow. He took a deep breath and realized quickly that this was, in fact, his bed. And he was in fact, in his own home. Impressive! Good on America for being able to recognize the smell of his own bed and or house! Not like there is anything special about his room that he currently sees jack in, that could make him recognize it. So, kudos to him!

He doesn't remember jack shit from last night so.. lucky him. Why couldn't his body just let him fall back asleep and drift away from all of the bullshit pain from being "hung-over." Like, he was a COUNTRY! They don't act like normal humans, so why must he also suffer with such bullshit like this? America's ego believed he was far too high up on the scale to be graced with such a thing as a "hang-over."

America didn't know how long he laid on his stomach, face still in the pillow, but he eventually moved back to his original position that was his back. Putting an arm over his eyes and groaning. He was half naked and somehow still sweating to death. He needs something to fix this headache and overbearing sweating before he explodes or something. He groaned and whined and bitched some more to himself quite loudly before getting the energy and courage to finally sit up.

And of course, the minute he fully sat up he put his head in his hands and just sat that for maybe another five minutes or so. Dreading everything, he took his time. He has nothing to do today so he will take his time getting up. Slowly but surely, with a loud sigh, he stood up and continuously began grabbing his bed for a bit of support.

Once fully straightened out he went over to his closet, well right in front of it, and picked up the first pair of sweatpants he laid his eyes on. He quickly put them on, throwing the suit pants near all of the other suit shit he wore last night. Quickly looking around for his sunglasses and phone, he began his search.

His eyes adjusted rather quickly to the darkness in his room and, seemingly just as quickly, found the two things he was looking for. He powered on his phone that was seemingly still alive and on its last legs, really, this thing was begging to either be plugged in or smashed with a hammer or thrown in a pool. He, like always, threw it into the pockets of his sweatpants. What color? Not even America himself knows in the dark. But, back to his phone situation: he had a charger for it in the kitchen and could plug it in then, he also placed his sunglasses on top of his head.

Yea, OK.. maybe America DID suffer with light sensitivity and these sunglasses were not only his pride and joy but also made just everything in general a lot better for him. Plus, it was kind of Americas brand to have his sunglasses. Who has America without them?

He walked towards his bedroom door and opened it with such force it slammed into his wall. He jumped at it slightly and prayed he didn't put a hole in the poor thing with the force he had just displayed. He didn't check though, that's a tomorrow thing. He made his way to the kitchen and saw a familiar figure on the couch. He rubbed his eyes, looked again, did a double take, looked again, and just began to stare. Was that.... fucking RUSSIA?!?!

America did a triple take as Russia just sat on his living room couch, watching some good ol' American T.V. Russia's eyes were glued onto the large television screen as America, in a somewhat quiet matter, made his way to the kitchen. The two rooms were connected with each other.

America tip-toed his way to his trusty coffee maker and began to make the beverage that hopefully soothes his brain. He knows nothing about curing hang-overs but, whatever! Coffee is amazing and that's what America wants. He grabbed one of his favorite mugs that was clean for once and put it under the spout. Clicking the necessary settings and then went to grab the creamer and sugar out of their respective places. Maybe this will worsen it? He'll just put in half his usual amount.

America was a sweet tooth type of guy, nothing bitter at all. As he did this, he would hear Russia laugh or chuckle to himself because of whatever he was watching. America didn't really pay any attention to it, but just figured it was a rerun of some old game show.

Trying to remember what happened last night, why Russia was now currently in his house, and why Russia was STILL in his house and just acting like he just LIVED there. America didn't mind though, one step closer to a better friendship or something else... but he doesn't want to think about that right now. His head hurts as is and thinking of something like that with HIM still in the room will make him pass out like one of those goats that get scared by loud noises.

The old but trusty coffee maker spewed out the rest of the coffee into the mug with what can only be described as a scream. America picked up the mug and walked towards the couch where Russia was, sitting right down beside him. America realized two things, one that it was a cloudy day outside and two this T.V show was in fact a game show rerun.

Russia paid no mind to America, to his dismay, as he got comfortable and situated on his couch. Sprawling out his limbs like a cat and being extremely careful not to spill his coffee onto himself or the surrounding furniture. Russia would periodically shimmy away from America to give him more leg room before America found the perfect position to lay in. Made his limbs ache less and seemingly made his headache go away. Him and Russia shared a comfortable silence between them that was broken with loud sips of coffee and the T.V blasting the overused phrase "OH LOOKS LIKE WE HAVE A WINNER LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!"

The coffee was gone in a matter of minutes. America hoped the bitterness of the coffee might help him, but it did not. In fact, it made him feel like more shit. Placing the mug on the ground near the couch, he groaned again as he placed his hands on his head.

"Dumbass." Russia muttered, eyes not leaving the television screen.

"Dunno why you're sayin' anythin'.." America spat back quickly.

"What I say is true, when you're drinking coffee in your current state."

"What's wrong with that... huh? Explain to me, oh so smart Russia!"

"It's quite simple, no? The bitterness of coffee doesn't replenish your system of water. Therefore, leading to coffee making you quite worse." Russia explained super nonchalantly, still watching the rerunning T.V show.

"Then.. why didn't you say anythin'...?" America did not feel like arguing, so, he sprawled out his limbs more. His legs went over Russia's lap as he whined. He dramatically put his arm over his eyes as Russia laughed.

"It's common sense, you should've drinken something like tea."

"Oh fuck off you slavic shit. It's like you don't even care about me..." America sniffled, almost pretending to cry.

"If I didn't care I wouldn't have brought you home last night. Y'know, you're an ass to deal with drunk."

"Wait.. YOU BROUGHT ME HOME-"

"Actually that makes a lot of sense...thanks ma'." America cut himself off, now connecting the dots of last night and everything happening up until now.

"That's why you're in my house! But, wait, why are you still here..? Were you that worried you stayed for lil' ol' me...??" Americas voice went more high pitched, almost in a mocking tone as Russia's face became dusted with a light pink.

"Just wanted to make sure.. you weren't dead."

"Oh my god... are you... you're blushing aren't you?? You embarrassed you were looking out for me?!" America teased some more, making Russia turn his head from the T.V to the opposite side of America. He made great eye contact with a throw pillow.

"I'm just nice like that.. I'm not blushing." Russia stated bluntly, America laughed. He laughed a lot.

"Shut up! Next time I'll just leave you to get hit by a taxi!"

"Ohhhhhhh brother you're soooo embarrassed right nowwwwww."

"Are we going to forget who won our game last night, huh?!" Russia fired back, looking over at America who was still sprawled out with a cat. They made eye contact as America's face went red out of embarrassment.

"Nuh uh I totally won.. You had to have cheated."

"How. That's impossible."

"YOU GREW UP DRINKING THAT SHIT!"

"Please, my father was not that irresponsible. We drank when he wasn't around."

"WHICH WAS LIKE 75% OF THE TIME??"

"False, about 50%."

"EXACTLY! YOU HAVE A HIGHER TOLERANCE!"

"Aw, thanks for admitting it. Guess I really am the winner after all, huh?"

America's face was bright red, Russia's iconic shit eating grin was plastered on his face, the two of them made intense eye contact. America admitted Russia had a point, otherwise why was he in this position he currently put himself in?

"Fuck you, our backrounds are completely different." America turned his head back towards the T.V as he heard Russia laugh again. He made sure to kick him in the side before sprawling out even more. Russia's lap supported America's lower body weight as he still laid down. His house, he does whatever the fuck he wants. He could feel Russia's eyes linger on him and his figure for a bit longer before also turning his attention back to the T.V.

Oh, right. Duh, he was still shirtless. Next time he should just make eye contact and wink like the bastard he was. It'd be kind of funny, right? They're already close, so why not try to get closer? Y'know, like bros do.

The two "bros'' sat in silence for a bit, very focused on the T.V. Although America zoned out, thinking about a lot of things. Speaking of bros, he thought of his. Specifically Canada, wondered how his relationship with Ukraine was going. He also thought back to the advice Canada had bestowed down onto him, "y'all are like a love trope in the media.. you're fitting all the stereotypes, dude!" Something like that, as America recalled the memory with his own spin on it.

He just wasn't ready for a relationship, and does Russia even feel the same way? America didn't think so, maybe he was oblivious? Or just plain stupid? Maybe Russia did but America was just too blind to notice. Maybe he should pry, try his luck.

"So, we never finished this convo from last night. How do you think Ukraine and Canada are doing?" Was the first words that blurted out of America's mouth as he glanced over to Russia. America sat up a bit, legs still over the man's lap. He propped himself up so he was laying on his upper arms. Wasn't the most comfortable, but he needed to switch things up. Russia glanced over at America as he began to scooch back, towards one of the arm rests of his couch, probably to sit himself up right.

"We mentioned them briefly, so, I honestly don't know. Don't know how much you remember of last night either but I did say I'd message him just to tell him where I was. So, I did, and he responded he'd be at where Canada is staying and other shit that isn't relevant." America was now sitting criss-cross while Russia finished his sentence. He nodded.

"GOD! They're like, so in love. Makes me jealous. Cana always teases me an' shit and it pisses me off." America paused, this is going well.

"Do your siblings ever tease you over that shit? Swear to god it's all mine can do besides make really shitty and low-blow jabs at me." America finished his previous thought as he began waiting patiently for Russia to respond.

"Eh, sometimes. Ukraine really doesn't tease about that, we hate each other and insult each other over more personal matters. Belarus keeps to herself, she only really talks to Ukraine about that kind of stuff. Sometimes I'm glad about that, it sounds like something else I don't need to deal with." The both of them chuckled as a response.

"So, what you're telling me, is that my brothers are unoriginal assholes?"

"Pretty much, oh yea, you never told me that family stuff I wanted to know about."

"Oh, erm, right now? You're just gonna ruin the good mood like that?!"

"No, no, it was just a suggestion. Keep your end of the deal."

"What deal?!?"

"God, do you remember anything from last night?"

"...No."

"Exactly, you don't have to if you don't want to. I don't want to make you uncomfortable, we can do this at a later date."

"Nah, nah! It's fine, just depends on what you wanted to know."

"Ehhh, just more about, I guess, how you become you? Like childhood."

"Ouch going for the best part first, huh?" America laughed, out of embarrassment and awkwardness. He didn't expect a therapy session this early.

"I guess, if that's what you're advertising. I guess I just want to know your family dynamic."

"WELL! GLAD YOU ASKED!" America said, his words full of sarcasm with a little enthusiasm mixed in.

Russia moved his body to sit facing America, away from the fucking T.V shockingly. He sort of sat with one of his knees towards his chest while the other leg laid relaxed next to it. America examined Russia figure, he remembered from last night he also wore a somewhat decently fancy suit. So, when America saw the country's most infamous outfit, the white wife beater and sweatpants his jaw dropped.

"So, where'd you get the pants?"

"Left them here before by accident, took it as an opportunity to not sleep naked."

"I wouldn't let you do that shit ANYWAY! Not on my couch, just got this shit cleaned" He lied.

"Sure you did," Russia smirked

"Just stop saying weird shit man.. you want America to give you the best fuckin' storytime ever or what?" He said, a smile on his face going ear to ear. He pointed to himself with both of his thumbs at himself. Russia scoffed.

"Yes, stop stalling. I'm curious, you keep going off topic."

"Basic run down, blah blah I was 13 colonies blah Britain was my dad blah blah then I didn't wanna be 13 colonies blah blah blah I revolted, then I won my cute little revolution and I wasn't 13 colonies no more, andd now we are here!"

"...OK?"

"You sound confused."

"Didn't make much sense, uh, so Britain's your father... but why is France your mother?"

"Oh that one is easy, y'know how I'm like basically a father to 50 kids?"

"Mhm.."

"Yea, so 13 colonies were just my first 13 states. And my mama owned some, kinda. By this time she was married to Britain, so they kinda.. shared custody! Britain was wayy more involved than France though. She owned a lot of land in Canada that she was preoccupied with. So, that's why people usually call Cana a mama's boy."

"Uh huh, I guess I follow. Thank.. You?"

"Anytime Russia! So glad we enjoyed this conversation and you learned a lot! But enough about me, let's talk about you!"

"What's there to even learn, I feel like a lot of people know my past in a way."

"Good point, well, how about this: how are you doing today?"

"Fine I guess, pretty tired I'd say. How about yourself?"

"Like shit,"

"Do you have tea?" Asked Russia, America's face became puzzled.

"Tea? What? Why're you asking?"

"I want tea, and tea could help you feel better."

"Y'know my relationship with tea! I'm quite offended actually... I thought we HAD something!"

"Is that a no?"

"You can check, asshole. It seems like you don't even CARE about my feelings!" America's voice went a bit whiny, to emphasize his point. Which made Russia smile and chuckle at his stupidity. Yep, an old married couple on the brink of divorce is what they were.

Russia got up and made his way behind the couch to the kitchen. America sprawled out again, trying to think of another conversation starter as he heard the moving and rummaging in his kitchen cabinet for the aforementioned tea. He should have some, an old gift from a country perhaps. It was probably tucked away somewhere far into the confines of his kitchen though, tea is nasty and America is too nice to throw nice and "thoughtful" gifts out.

The silence was nice, T.V faintly in the background, Russia saying some shit in Russian probably over how unorganized and messy America's stuff was (probably didn't want to offend America just yet), the hitting together off boxes and cans, it was great. It didn't help America's headache, but he wasn't going to bitch anymore yet. He hated tea with a fiery passion, even the mention of the word made his blood boil. But if Russias making it... no. Not because Russias making it, it's totally scientifically proven tea helps with hangovers. Nothing to do with this slavic shithead.

The sink turned on and he could only assume a kettle of some sorts was getting filled up. A bit more clacking before he heard his gas stove click a few times before hearing the familiar "fwosh" sound it'd make once the flame came on. There was also the unnecessarily loud metal sounds of a tea kettle hitting the stove. He closed his eyes, imagining what Russia was doing. He thought it'd be funny if while imagining this scenario, he was fucking tiny.

He heard his cupboards open in search for a mug or two, and he imagined Russia on his tippy toes trying to reach for the mugs. It made America smile as he solely focused on the sounds the other country was making. Yea, for America being the older of the two Russia sure was a fucking monster. Unnaturally bulky and tall. Bullshit.

But then, his eyes flew open. He felt his sunglasses shift on his head, but still sitting atop of his head, of course, as he saw Russia throw himself back onto the couch. Laying on his back, with the little space he had. America stared, a genuine nice smile on his face. Russia's face was relaxed, eyes closed as he let out a heavy sigh.

"What's wrong, sunshine? Making tea too much work for you?" He joked, Russia flipped him off. Hilarious!

"I'm doing us both a favor, asshole. You're a pain in my ass, a thorn in my side, what other analogy is there to describe your shit?"

"Awwwwww, thanks! I bet your tea is gonna be tasty, huh?"

"Shut up, please. Just, stop."

"Nah nah, let's keep talking. How about your personal life? How're your friendships going along?"

"For what little I have, good I guess? You?" Russia's tone changed as they began talking more, from pissed to a more calm angry mix.

"Mhmmmm, I love all my friends! Family is OK, I guess."

"That's co-"

"OH HEY! WANNA KNOW A SECRET!" America cut off Russia, as he thought of the best thing he can do with his pea sized brain. He's going to ask if Russias interested in anyone, genius plan! His reaction to that question will explain everything to America! Calm his nerves that he has a chance, or completely destroy them into tiny bits and pieces.

"You didn't have to cut me off." The angry voice came back, ouch.

"Uh huh I did, very important. Do you wanna know or not?"

"Humor me."

"Actually it isn't a secret, I lied sorry. Still as important." Russia rolled his eyes as he tried to get himself more comfortable.

"You.. interested in anyone right now?" He giggled like a little school girl. Russia raised an eyebrow.

"Why're you asking that? You got something to admit?

"Oh nononononono, I just like to gossip like I'm 17 again."

"Sure, wouldn't you like to know huh?"

"So... is that a definite yes? Or a 'I'm gonna avoid this question' type of yes?"

"Well, keep this one to yourself, gossip girl, but yes, I am."

"One: I'm surprised you even know gossip girl. Two: OH EM GEE YOU ARE?!" America practically screamed, bouncing up and down at the response.

"Jesus, yea. It isn't that big of a deal, is it?" Russia questioned, watching America bounce around like a toddler or small kid. Really depended how you look at him, either way it was a childish outburst.

"Oh, it's kinda a big deal to me. This proves you trust me enough for that kinda info, and I can press you into admitting who it is!"

"Nope, won't happen. I'm great at withstanding interrogation."

"Awww, c'mon, who is it? Is it someone we know? Someone I hate, or like? Is it someone I wouldn't know? C'mon spill it man!"

America pressed Russia for more information on his cute lil' crush, but what comically timing then for the kettle to start screaming its nonexistent lungs out. Russia made a swift exit from the living room area to back in the kitchen. America groaned as he watched him get up and leave to tend to the needy and loud tea kettle.

Oh well, maybe this tea will be the best shit he has ever had in his goddamn life. Despite the hatred for the wicked "drink", he's willing to give it another try if he's going through all the effort to make some.

But this also got America thinking, who does he like? Maybe he finally has a chance. America laid back more, letting his mind wander. Oh, all the fucking possibilities. He couldn't even think who the almighty Russia would like, maybe he was dense or maybe it was the headache but he couldn't think of anyone. Unless-

"Get your ass in here, tea is done." Russia scream-whispered. More of a scream, his tone of voice more demanding than suggestions. America got up swiftly and made his way to sit at the island that was attached to the kitchen. It had a sink and all that other fun shit kitchens had attached to it. He sat on the opposite side of the sink and actual kitchen part as Russia joined him on his right bringing the two mugs full of his handy work. He could smell the aroma of tea and see the steam waft off the top of the mug.

Russia then sat one of the mugs right in front of America, who studied it carefully. Like it had poison in it. He felt Russia's eyes on him, eyeing him up and down in an almost judgemental type of matter. Probably because he was just staring at it. He could hear Russia sip at the boiling hot beverage, questioning how he could even drink something still so hot.

"Are you just going to stare at it like it's some kind of exotic thing?" America heard Russia's question, he turned to look him in the eyes.

"...What if it's poisoned..."

"What."

America said that sentence in all seriousness, Russia was dumbfounded. Lost for words, even.

"It's also too hot, I gotta wait for it to cool down..."

"Oh for fucks sake."

"WHAT?! I'm being serious!!"

"You can just say you don't want it."

"Nuh uh, I'll drink it... just give me some time ok?!"

America then grabbed the mug, blowing on the liquid to hopefully cool it down. Russia, who was still lost for words, watched in amusement. Breaking news: an American tries tea for the first time made by someone who knows what REAL tea is!! America took his time with preparing himself for the first sip, Russia was half way done with his. He was about to stand up and get himself another tea bag until..

America took his first sip.

"So.. it's not bad, no? I make a good pot of tea, right?" Russia said proudly. He was practically eradicating pride from every inch of his body. He watched as America stayed quiet, clearly analyzing the tea like some kind of food critic.

"Hm? Take your time, I know it's a lot to take in for a real pot of tea." Russia put his hands on his hips as he smirked, awaiting the oncoming review from the country sitting beside him.

Russia watched on, confused by the reactions America had. Stone cold face as he went in for another sip. Taking time to swallow is, well, he clearly is very serious about this reviewing business he has going on right now. Russia took another big gulp from him as they both sat down their mugs in, somewhat, unison.

"Russ."

"Yes, America?"

"Why haven't I met you sooner?"

"Wha- huh?" And just like that, Russia was lost for words again.

"This shit, right here? Is probably the best fuckin' thing I've had to drink in awhile..."

"Oh, so you.. like it?"

"No, I don't like it."

"Oh?" Russia questioned, maybe this is a sign to never let America fucking drink again.

"I fuckin' love it."

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yea, so i totally lied from the last chapter LOL and i apologize for that
got the cute lil thing called writers block going on, and with the end of the school year coming up it's harder to write

BUT that's no excuse for me not to upload, so i will whenever i do get the time. this chapter might seem a bit confusing but please barewith me:))

thankyou for continued support on my writing, and hope you enjoyed this chapter!'