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English
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Published:
2015-11-21
Completed:
2016-07-01
Words:
6,166
Chapters:
12/12
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412
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short sweet and reckless (just another description of me)

Chapter 12: dumb historical inaccuracy and other things

Summary:

12. America/Russia; hate-marriage. Because why the hell not.

Chapter Text

"Why are you here," Switzerland says flatly, standing on his porch with a shotgun strapped to his back.

The United States of America grins at him, a flash of sharp, Hollywood-white teeth. The Russian SSFR of the Soviet Union is standing next to him, twisting his fingers through his scarf in discomfort, a tiny, forced smile on his face.

America hooks his arm through Russia's, ignoring the little hiss of, "Don't touch me, you capitalist pig--"

America stomps on Russia's foot to silence him. He's got these sensible, all-American leather loafers, made for business, way better than whatever those commies can come up with. Of course they'd be! Even though Russia doesn't even flinch, but America's willing to bet those boots aren't even Russian. Or Soviet. Probably snatched them at some over-the-top black market price, because the USSR can't even break the law right.

Or something.

"We're getting hate-married," America explains happily, pulling Russia closer so that their hips bump together. Russia huffs and jerks his head in a different direction. Switzerland raises an eyebrow. "And we want you to be our witness. And also everything else that comes with a marriage. But this is a hate-marriage." America frowns, then repeats it, just to clarify. "Hate-marriage."

"And you saw fit to do this at my house at four in the morning," Switzerland continues. "You're asking me to say the vows to your...hate-marriage thing."

"Well, yeah," America says sheepishly. "Since the past few days were filled with meetings and negotiations and stuff, and we're all going home tomorrow, so."

"I have not agreed to this," Russia protests weakly. America keeps grinning and slips a hand around his waist, and Russia tenses, drawn in like a taut string, or maybe a bear just realizing that its territory has been invaded. Not that America has any experience with that. How was he supposed to know that Canada's pet was a godless killing machine?

Switzerland sighs. "I now pronounce you Mr. and Mr. Cold War." He steps back into the house. "Now go away before I shoot you for trespassing."

The door slams shut. There's a beat of silence.

America still has his arm around Russia, and he shivers, because, whoa, did the air just get a whole lot colder?

"Amerika..." Russia giggles darkly.

"Okay, sorry," America says quickly. He snatches his arm back. "Geez, no need to do the creepy-aura temperature-drop thing, it's only September."

"Comrade, time of the year does not stop me."

"...Good to know, buddy. Good to know."