The day was followed by Russia and America hanging out in his home. They were gossiping and watching T.V and eating processed shit. When it started getting dark outside, Russia openly stated he was going to text Ukraine to see what the "plan" was. This was then followed by Russia promptly excusing himself before going to answer a call. America could hear the angry Ukrainian over the phone, while Russia just sighed and answered calmly.

Whether Russia was speaking to his brother in his native language or the other, it didn't matter. It didn't take a genius to tell that they were trying to compromise a plan between each other and it clearly wasn't working out. And to say America didn't eavesdrop throughout this entire unknown conversation to him was a lie. No matter the language, drama was drama and American was going to get his hands on it.

Russia walked back in the room with his phone still up to his ear. America's face turned puzzled as the hand that held Russia's phone was moving towards him. Russia seemed unsure on what was going on, kind of stressed even. America was even more confused when he caught a glimpse of the prestige phone screen with the usual call layout plastered on it and the contact name, atleast America assumed it was a name, of "Украина".

"What do you want me to do with this???" America asked as he gently took the phone from Russia's hands, making sure to be quiet so the country on the other line couldn't hear him.

"He wanted to talk with you." Russia said, equally as quiet. He sat back down next to America, adjusting his wife beater as he looked off to the side. He began fucking with his hair. Great.

"Great, thanks man. I'll try my best!" America said sarcastically as Russia scoffed. Slowly America raised the phone to his left ear and began to speak. Just great he was the mediator of this situation! Just like always.

"Yello?" America said, classic.

"Oh thank fucking god, America. We must discuss." Ukraine responded, sounding relieved. America could still hear the thick accent of the Eastern European country. He took note of how it's sort of similar to Russias, with it's own twist. Kind of cool.

"What can I help ya' with, dude? Can't guarantee shit honestly."

"No, it's more about, well," Ukraine was stumbling over his words, almost stuttering. Very out of character for him.

"Take your time man, I got all the time in the world." Russia looked over at America, as America gave him a playful smirk.

"Well, I'm sure you're aware I'm still with your brother.. Canada."

"Mhm."

"Right, so, I was going to ask if.. if it's ok you watch over Russia for a bit more."

"That don't bother me at all, why'd you word it like that though?" America laughed. Watched over is a funny way to put it. They were basically babysitting each other in some ways.

"Because I say it how it is. That.. fuckass is a piece of goddamn work and I don't know how you stand his presence." He could feel Russia staring daggers at him, but these daggers were not aimed at America himself.. more towards the phone.

"Y'know I could say the same about Cana,"

"Don't bring him into this."

"Jesus! Alright, alright. Is that all you wanna talk about dude?"

"Mmmm, that's it. I can text you if I plan on staying longer here, but, for now that seems to be the plan. Him staying with you until I'm done with Canada."

"Works with me!"

"Give me the phone." Russia said sternly, he wanted this conversation to end. America smiled.

"Alright, nice talking with ya'. Buh bye." America swiftly said before the phone was snatched out of his hands. Russia, who still sat by America, began to talk so fast it sounded like gibberish. Fast talking mixed with a foreign language does not go well.

America stared in amusement, he thought it was like watching a foreign drama. Well, it technically  is foreign drama but just between siblings. Sibling drama and the siblings are foreign, so technically... no. No more technically, he was right and he was going to stand by that fucking point 'till he died.

He didn't even realize this internal debate with himself caused him to zone out, but he was RUDELY awakened from this court worthy debate by the very angry Russian man next to him. He watched as his calm and collected manner quickly faded as he and Ukraines fight continued on.

His face was clearly angry, annoyed, pissed off, every single synonym under the planet for the word "mad." This was then followed up by Russia flipping off his phone, taking it away from his face to do so. He kept it away from his face, turning on the speaker as he let Ukraine finish his shit. Once Ukraine finished, the call hung up.

The room was dead silent. America looked, well, dumbfounded. Jesus, he did not know that their relationship was that rocky. It's quite sad honestly, he couldn't even imagine his siblings having that kind of relationship with him. It kind of reminded America of him and his dad, but he quickly threw away that thought.

Russia sighed, loudly, letting his body sink into the couch. Slumped over, still looking angry as hell, as he threw his phone to the side not occupied by America. He focused on the T.V as he continued to glance over at America ever so often, who was still staring at him like he was some kind of exotic animal.

America did not know what the fuck he was going to do. Shit, should he mention how he's going to stay a bit more at his home and he wanted to order food? Should he just let Russia calm himself down and watch the T.V? Should he do both? Should he leave him alone? He had no fucking clue, everytime someone was mad in his house hold they were screamed at more until their mood "lightened up." That's clearly not how to do things as an adult, or ever.

He decided to let Russia calm himself down, no one knows how to cheer themselves up from a shitty mood more than themselves. Then he'll ask what Russia wanted for dinner because he planned on ordering something for the both of them, free of charge!

They sat in silence for a good bit before America decided to speak up. About 30 minutes, as the T.V was now on a rerun of an old American drama. One of the shorter ones, of course, and Russia was clearly a bit happier. He would of course still be a bit mad, but the complete bullshit these series spit out is enough to make anyone smile.

"Yo Russia," America started.

"Hm?"

"Do you, like, want food or something? I was planning on ordering in so, because you're my distinguished guest, I want your input."

"Uh, depends. What's around here?"

"That don't matter, are you in the mood for any type of food in particular? Anything at all?"

"Let me think about that for a second."

And so Russia did, with the stereotypical "thinking" face many people adopt when in deep thought. No one can deny free food, maybe it'll brighten up his mood just a bit more. Question is, since he's in America's territory, the options were endless. And, there's always that chance any foreign person dreads when trying to pick a restaurant that serves food from their own culture. Would it be the best thing ever, or the worse? Would it even be considered a part of his culture at that rate? Many questions, too little answers.

"Well, I do need to know what's around here to make a better choice." Russia stated, America sighed loudly. Why'd he sigh? Dunno, it just came out.

"Let's see, alotta fast food joints. Like, every single American brand fast food joint, uh. Chinese, too many Italians places, probably some European places if I look a bit harder, surprisingly some pubs, high end expensive places only celebrities go to for their social media.. and that seems to be about it."

"Look and tell me the name of some of those European places, I'll be the judge on whether they are worth our time and money." Russia said sternly, very confident in his ability to sniff out a bad restaurant.

"Uhhh, hang on..."

Well, this was getting awkward. Maybe this was a bad idea to try and start another conversation considering the events that happened not even an hour ago, it's getting kind of pathetic. America had that realization, and it started to kind of bother him. He focused on looking for these restaurants. They're in New York, there has to be some kind of place around, hopefully.

Russia waited patiently for America's searching, watching him as he pulled a blanket that was sitting on the couch with them over his chest. Yea, America was still shirtless. Classic. He couldn't blame him though, being hung over really does take a toll on yourself. Although, America seemed to get through it a lot quicker than expected, so he's probably just being lazy. Again, classic.

"Well, fucking hell I had to search but I found like.. Three restaurants. Can't pronounce their names but I, like, recognize some of these dishes."

"Speak to me American boy, I'm listening."

"Wooow, I didn't need a new nickname so soon."

"Thought it fit sorry, continue on."

"Fine, so, most of them have shit with meat, obviously. Porridge and bread?? And.. soups. One has "Russia Pancakes" listed, honestly sounds quite good."

"My logic is, if they don't use the proper term it's not worth the time. People can read food descriptions off of menus or just look up what it is. I don't want "Russian Pancakes", no, I want Blini."

"Blini..."

"Yes, Blini. They're those "Russian Pancakes" you just mentioned."

"Mention Russian Pancakes one more fucking time I might just go feral. I get what you're trying to say!!" America laughed, why are they so caught up on fucking Russian Pancakes- sorry, "Blini" as Russia liked to put it.

"Haha, of course. But, I don't know if I'm really feeling that kind of food right now. What do you recommend?"

"C'mon man, you're the guest! Why you trying to make me pick??"

"Not trying to pick, just wanting feedback because you actually live here. I'm the visitor afterall. I could pull up Google Maps and act like a tourist if you want?"

"God, no, please. I'm sorry." America pleaded, fuck Russia for making a decent point. He didn't find anything wrong with tourists, just a tiny bunch were really insufferable and America just couldn't deal with people like that. He could not emphasize how tiny that majority was.

"Exactly, so get on with it!" Russia said demandingly, shocker.

"Well, I always am in the mood for pub food. Somethin' about that shit just really makes your day, I dunno about your day, but it'd certainly make mine. Never can go wrong with just, like, normal American restaurants. OH! There's this nice Italian joint, owned by real Italians so it's real good and not some half-assed bullshit."

"Go on,"

"That's all I got man." America said nonchalantly. He can notice Russia's mood improving by the second, and he was happy about that. Not because of anything else, no, he was happy so he didn't have to deal with Russia's mean ass attitude.

"Uh huh, well, I.."

"What, you what?"

"I'm feeling indecisive, give me a moment."

"Oh my god, just don't take all night..." America groaned, Russia completely ignored him.

"Didn't you say that I'm the guest? And here you are, rushing your guest."

"Fuck you, just pick a place. Y'know that Italian joint is hella good right? Why don't we just go with that?"

"Aren't you impatient, Ame? Plus, I don't want Italian food."

"Now, what the fuck is wrong with Italian food?"

"Oh, I just don't like the Italians."

Russia said that with the most serious look on his face. Americas fucking jaw dropped. He had to do everything in his power to make himself not laugh. He gets it, he doesn't like a lot of people but if they have good food he isn't complaining. America would let out small wheezes here and there as Russia continued to think, smiling at his "joke."

Russia let out a noise, like a "humph" type of noise. America looked over at him, and Russia still looked deep in thought. America groaned, once again, loudly. America has never groaned so much at one person before. So, give a hand to Russia for winning the "Pissing off America" award this year!

"Did you come to a conclusion, my king?" America said sarcastically, but was he really being sarcastic?

"Eh.."

"Oh my god." America yelled, sitting up fully just to put his head in his hands.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding."

"I don't believe you."

"Let's just get the Italian food."

"It took you that long to decide to get fucking Italian food?"

"Had to think critically, my friend. That's what really matters in situations like this." Russia smiled, as America looked back up. Searching for his phone. In the midst of America's mid-life crisis, caused by the one and only sitting right beside him, he seemed to have lost it.

"This is all your fault." America said, just trying to keep the conversation going. He stood up, threw the blanket that was previously covering him onto the floor to continue looking. Russia just watched him look around, like a dumbass.

"I think you're dense."

"Dense? That's an insane allegation, what makes you think that?"

"Everything." Russia laughed, is America missing something here?

"What? Am I blind or something?"

"Maybe."

America then looked around himself, where he was sitting, around Russia, and any area that could possibly have his kidnapped phone. Russia watched in amusement, was he missing something? Maybe he was dense, because he is clearly missing some important shit that Russia knows, but it's sharing with America. Yea, he was clearly in a better mood now. To America's dismay, he'll go insane sooner or later.

"Your.." Russia said, cutting himself off in a teasing manner just to fuck with America. America whipped his head towards Russia, waiting for the rest of his response. That, however, never came.

"My what, huh? Spit it out."

"What do you think?"

"Stop playing with me, and fucking say it!"

"Mmmm.. no, I'd rather not."

"Why not?!"

"It's rather funny."

Russia was having too much fun with himself at this little stupid fucking situation, as America deemed it. America frantically looked around, it took him all too long to realize what Russia was hinting at. His fucking pants pockets. The minute that thought entered his mind, his hand was already reaching inside them to retrieve the phone. And, low and behold, there it fucking was.

"God, that took way too fucking long."

"I'd say."

"Fuck you, you smug bastard. Could've said that shit the entire time, made me get up from my comfortable position. Asshole." America flopped back down at his spot, making sure to make Russia bounce with the couch just a little, as he booted up the poor thing and began ordering.

"What do you want, bitch?" America asked, faintly listening to the T.V still playing in the background.

"Surprise me."

"Ain't you confident?"

"Fuck yea I am. Anything you throw at me is small, pathetic, and puny."

"Ouch, my poor fragile ego! What will I ever do?" As America snickered to himself, quietly as possible, he ordered Russia's food.Some random shit that America didn't even think was "authentic" Italian food. Apparently, not a lot of people like it so it might just throw off Russia. He doubts it, how can you hate any food the Italians make? America knows right now, Italy is shedding tears of joy because she finally got the recognition for her food that she "rightfully deserved."

"Cry about it, I guess. Nothing is going to break your fat ass ego."

"My ego is NOT fat!"

"Mhm, just like your weight."

Room went silent. Russia's smile could be heard for miles. America was fucking flabbergasted. He. did. not. He went for the LOWEST blow EVER. Fuck the current American stereotype, it isn't fuckin' TRUE DAMMIT! America started to fake cry, and it was sort of convincing.

"Y-You really think that...?" America said, adding a small sniffle and huff to make it more convincing.

"Maybe." Was all Russia said, curse these fuckin Europeans and their stone cold faces. Can't ever read what emotion they are trying to convey unless they mean it. Bullshit, really.

"Damn, there really is no guilt tripping you, huh?"

"Nope. Not in the slightest, keep trying though. It's cute watching you try so hard to withdraw emotions from me."

"Cute is a weird way to say that, anyways, food is ordered. Be here in like 30 minutes."

"Isn't that, sort of quick times for a restaurant?"

"Maybe, maybe not. Maybe they aren't busy. Maybe they're a shit restaurant. All depends."

"But, if they were a shit restaurant why would you order from them?"

"Why not?" America confidently said.

"Besides, that's besides the point. Ordering fuckin' food take way to long. Let's talk. Discuss, if you will." America crossed his legs, all fancy like, as he slightly turned towards the Russia figure. Russia also pivoted towards America, not a lot, but enough to be facing him. To be respectable, of course, just to have a nice, quiet, and calm conversation between the two.

"Discuss about what, huh?"

"Well, I must ask you something first."

"Hm?"

"Are you in a better mood now?"

"Huh?" Russia seemed confused, and America, for some reason, was not buying it. He thinks that Russia knows exactly what he is trying to say, or imply, and is just trying to avoid it.

"Y'know what I mean, right? Ain't no way you don't."

"What? Noooo, I don't know what you're saying at allll." Bullshit. That's what spewed out of Russia's lips. Utter and complete bullshit. So now, America now realizes that the oh-so powerful Russia cannot come to terms with his emotions. Either that or he just has horrible emotions, huh, what's that word? Management is what fits best. He has shitty emotional management. Atleast, America thinks so.

"Fine, I'll say what I wanna say but act like your four. Works out for the both of us, yea?"

"You don't have to do that, y'know?"

"Nuh uh, you gonna act like that? You gonna get treated like that."

"You just don't understand though."

"Ugh! Just, like, no one understands me these days! It's sooo hard to understand my emotions.." America mockingly said to Russia, making his voice sound wayy more whinier and bitchier then what it usually is. Russia just scoffed.

"Fuck off, just say what you were going to say. Dumbass."

"Weak insult, ANYWAYS! Since I am now a glorified babysitter to you, why don't we plan to do something tomorrow? Like, not sit around this dump for more than three hours?"

"Uh huh, what would you have in mind?"

"No, it's more like what would YOU have in mind? Mister Guest? Only ideas I got are more clubs, but not that expensive bullshit type of clubs. The type of clubs that are like mini raves, and totally violate many regulations from the FDA."

"Is that what many would consider to be a part of the New York experience? I haven't been here a lot, well, I take that back. I have been here a lot, just haven't stayed."

"What? You weren't ever curious how my people work in this shit hole city- I mean, not to be rude to my kid, it's just a little on the fence. But, I guess? Clubbing culture is kinda huge in America, and I say kinda because I usually don't go to small clubs like that."

"Really? You seem like the type to do that." Russia questioned. Does America NOT look like the type of guy to do that kind of shit every Tuesday and Friday?

"I'm either a) not allowed to go, b) forced to go to some high end fancy ass club that sells alcohol more expensive than a kidney on the black market, or c) I'm just too busy."

"What do you mean by "not allowed to go"? Thought you weren't one for rules."

"Well, I'm not. But, like, I have work to do most of the time. I'm surprised your ass isn't getting calls out the ass for your absence in your own territory. When I visited my father and mother, got at least two calls a day from them people. It's like they can't function without my presence right next to them, guiding their hand to sign a bill or some shit."

"My people know how to take care of themselves. Seems like yours do not."

"Erm, that's only half the time. Russ, can I call you Russ? I'ma call you Russ. Anyways, it's just that some of the time they need that guide because they aren't qualified for their jobs."

"Russ, Did I tell you that that is what you called me when you were drunk? Shitfaced, is how you would have put it."

"Me?? Shitfaced? Never in my life have I been and or considered myself to be shitfaced drunk."

"Bold statement, so tell me then why you didn't remember me bringing you home last night? You're also missing the main point of my statement."

America stayed silent, followed by Russia's loud laughter. He always has a point, shockingly.  Their conversation seemed to last for hours, but in reality lasted until the food arrived, just friendship banter. Banter, that's how most people would describe it. They talked a lot, about a lot, but the conversations seemingly went nowhere. Those were the best kind of conversations in America's opinion, though. Great way to pass the time fast, and you always have fun when doing so.

The two were talking about, yet another, absolutely random and bullshit topic when the doorbell rang. Well, since he's America, one of the building's employees brought it up. America never put "America" on his food orders. No, he put "13." Obvious reasons, 13 sounds way more normal then just "AMERICA." If he orders like that, he'll have to put the eagle and American flag emoji to make it more authentic. And it gives him some type of animosity, he liked staying under the radar when in his own home.

They ate their food, from little complaints from Russia. It was pretty good actually. America had some kind of noodle type dish and Russia had something with meat. He wasn't certain, but oh well. How was he supposed to remember what he got if the dishes weren't in plain English? America was proud about his choice of dish for Russia, making a great impression on him.

Dinner had little complications, everyone was happy. But now what? America didn't know how long he was going to have this guy in his house, clearly they should plan something, anything. Anything was better than sitting home all day.

Don't get America wrong, he loved lounging around his house. But he could not stand staying inside for more than a day or two. Canada once said it's something like "underlying" trauma, but what is Canada? A licensed doctor? A licensed therapist? He didn't think so. And, like every adult said ever "make sure you check credentials." Or, maybe that was just a thing from America's childhood.

"Ame, I have a question."

"Oh?" Russia broke America's deep train of thought. Maybe that was for the better, America did want to discuss future plans with Russia.

"Well, it's not a question. I lied."

"You bastard." America gasped dramatically as he put his hand on his chest.

"Oh, shut up. I was going to say we should talk about plans."

"I have something in mind!"

"Mhm." Russia nodded along as America's mood completely did a 180.

"Let's just go to a local club. The shitter the better, the cheaper the alcohol is better, the shittier the music the better. You get me?"

"Totally. Expensive alcohol is good, don't get me wrong, but sometimes the cheaper stuff is just so much better."

"I'd rather spend 20$ on three beers than one high end mixed cocktail. I've come to realize high end clubs really don't sell beer, maybe it's cheap or some bullshit like that?"

"I don't know, I usually don't experience stuff like that. So it's completely out of my range of judg-"

Fuck Russias phone. Russia was rudely cut off by his own phone ringing in his pocket. He promptly excused himself to answer it, with the biggest scowl and sigh ever. Probably Ukraine. Although, he is probably not apologizing. At least that is what America thinks, unless if Canada talked him into that. No wayyyy..... but Canada's niceness is contagious like that sometimes. It'd be shocking, honestly.

Speaking of Canada, his comment back at his parents place resurfaced in his mind. Some dumb fucking rom-com couple... America and Russia? Well, America thinks his life is kind of like a show. This episode would be filler, totally. ...Where was America going with that thought? Maybe without the presence of his not-so-secret crush, Russia, near him at all times he just goes stupid in the head. Absolutely mental, as his dear ole' dad would say back in his youth.

Russia walked back into the room, he looked completely shocked. Huh, wonder what happened?

"Sooo??? What's going on????"

"Shut up, I am processing it still."

"Ohhhh.... so maybe it's what I thought, huh?"

"Thought what?"

"Nothing, anyways, still wanna hit up a club tomorrow??"

"Sure why not, what would we do in the morning though?"

"I don't know. I'll see how I'm feeling when I wake up."

And just like that, America had scored another hang out with Mister.Russia. Just like that! Could this be considered a date?? More one sided, he would assume. Either way, he gets to spend time with the best person on planet earth.