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America pushed past China, “I’ll get it!” he cried, reaching for the handle, “It’s mine!” China shook his head but stepped back anyway, awaiting the creak of the door as the rusty hinges squeaked open. Not a moment later, the shocking shriek met his ears and he peered out the door, suddenly curious. Three sets of eyes connected, and a moment of realization passed between them.
“Russia!” America cheered, throwing his hands up above his head as his boyfriend shouldered his way into his house, “You made it!”
“Why wouldn’t I have made it-,” Russia broke off, suddenly crushed as China unexpectedly tackled him.
“I dunno bro, but it wouldn’t be the first time, would it.,” America scolded, pulling his two boyfriends apart and directing them away from the door. “Come on dudes, let's get out of the way of the door,” he mumbled, “I’ve got other guests coming you know.”
Once they were sufficiently far away, China turned to face America, “Who’d you invite?” he asked curiously, peering over America’s shoulder to look if there was anyone else entering the room.
“Oh just the normal guys,” America answered, waving the question aside like his answer had been the most specific thing he could have said, “But I’m more interested in who’s here already.”
“Me or him?” Russia asked, laughing from under his scarf and gesturing to China, “Or maybe you meant yourself?”
China stifled a laugh and lightheartedly punched Russia’s arm, “Oh stop it, you know he didn’t mean himself.”
“Maybe I did,” America joked, “I am the coolest one in this room, maybe I’m the hottest one too!”
“Not true!” China sputtered, “That’s definitely me!”
America and Russia burst out laughing, and it didn’t take long for China to join them. In fact, their little giggle fit only ended when the door hinges creaked open again. (Quieting as all three nations hurriedly turned to see who was joining the party.)
“Yo! Japan dude!” Called America, waving his hands and rushing over to properly invite his friend, “You need anything? Juice? Chips? A place to put your bags?” Relieved, Japan nodded and followed America, still chattering, to the snacks table.
Russia smiled slightly, America looked like he was having fun, and honestly, that was enough to let him brush aside how much less planned out his welcome was. (The man could have at least asked him if he’d had a good flight, I mean really. ) But as he watched the two friends chat, he knew it didn’t matter, Alfred was having a good time! And heck if he wasn’t going to follow his example.
China followed Russia as he made his way over to the snack table. Snickering to himself as he was reminded of how much the amount of junk food outweighed the singular vegetable platter. (It wasn’t a bad vegetable platter, but nothing to boast about when compared to the absolute mountain of chips that stood next to it.)
“Hey America!” he teased, picking up a Cheese Puff and flinging it at his boyfriend, “Do you want me to teach you how to cook some real party food?”
America looked over, an obviously fake look of annoyance on his face, “Not now dude, can’t you see I’m busy talking to Japan over here?”
“He sees that,” Russia interjected, not looking up from filling his place with diced carrots, “He’s just so enamored by your cooking abilities that he can’t but give a few tips,”
China snorted slightly and began to inspect a cracker, “Pretty sure this is processed but thanks for trying to explain my opinions.” Russia nodded into his scarf, but even with his face half buried in light pink fabric, China could tell he was smiling. (Knowing that sort of thing just came naturally when you’d been together for as long as they had.)
China finally decided that the cracker was safe to eat and bit into it. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Japan stifling a laugh and patting America on the shoulder. “It’s okay Alfred,” he was saying, “ I like your food selection,”
America batted his friend’s hand away and shook his head, clearly not upset despite his slightly annoyed expression. “You’re just saying that because the cake isn't out here yet,” he decided, looking more and more cheered up by every word, “I frosted it myself!”
Japan grimaced, obviously aware that that meant the cake was almost certainly an unhealthy looking shade of green or pink. (China and Russia quickly followed his example when the realization hit them.), Looking around himself and seeing their faces, America broke into a barking laugh, “Don’t worry!” he reassured them, wiping an eye with one hand and pointing around at them with the other, “It’s just a little bit of frosting, nothing to worry about!”
“Oh whew,” Russia mumbled sarcastically, “For a moment there I was worried you had covered the thing in dead bugs,”
While China pretended to throw up, America just fell back into a couch, laughing harder. (Poor Japan didn’t seem to process the joke for a moment, but eventually smiled slightly as it dawned on him.) “You know I would never do that!” America finally choked out, “Not unless it was our anniversary or something…”
China leaned over to Russia, whispering behind a hand as he joked, “Reminded me when that is so I can avoid it,”
Russia nodded solemnly, “14th of October,” he whispered back, “And I’ll only remind you if you remind me first,”
China shook his head and rolled his eyes, “Russia that doesn’t make sense,” his voice now at full volume, “How would that do any good if I had to remind you first?”
Russia shrugged, but before he (or anyone else for that matter) could open their mouth to speak there was a knock at the door. Instantly America shot off the couch, vaulting over an end of the snack table as he rushed to invite another friend in. “I’m getting it!” he yelled, “All of you stay right there, I’ve got this!”
Russia looked to the sky and China pinched the bridge of his nose. “Really,” Japan murmured, “It’s like he thinks it’s some kind of contest.”
“Oh you don’t even know the half of it,” China said, turning to face his friend, “You didn’t see how aggressively he ran to get the door for you or Russia.”
Japan raised his eyebrows. “How aggressive would you say it was?” Russia asked, sounding mildly curious, “For me I mean,” he corrected, “I saw him inviting Japan.”
China shrugged, “Pretty aggressive I’d say,” and then, suddenly serious he added, “He pushed me out of the way Ivan,” -he mimed hitting something, “Phhss, right like that,”
“Wow, that’s very violent,” Russia said, following China’s own mimed seriousness with a nod and a blink, “So very unlike him.”
China nodded back seriously, but a stifled cough of laughter broke though as Russia copied his little smack movement and subsequent sound effect, “Shut up,” China mumbled, watching out of the corner of his eye as Italy and Germany finally made it through the door, “It was the only thing I could think of doing,”
“Thank you for thinking of it then,” Russia smiled, casually picking up an entire bell pepper and biting into it, “It was funny.”
Abandoning the snacks table, Japan rushed over to the newcomers, excitedly hugging Italy (and then Germany) as America explained where the snacks and everything were. After a moment of watching the three former allies greet each other, Russia opened his mouth to speak, “When do you think they’ll figure it out?” he whispered, “They’ve obviously got a thing for each other.”
China shrugged and climbed into a chair, “I dunno, but hopefully it’s soon. They’re driving me mad with anticipation.”
“It was the same for us you know,” Russia nodded, leaning on the chair back and sighing, “That feels like such a long time ago…”
“It was a long time ago,” China laughed, “We’ve been a thing for a real while now.”
“I guess you’re right.” Slowly, the two drifted into silence. A direct contrast to the growing noise of the party as another group of nations made it past America’s little ‘greeting’ speech. It was nice, being close enough to each other that they could talk face to face. (Which was a luxury that neither of them had ever been able to take for granted. Being nations and everything, they usually had to stay in their own countries, far away from any other immortal friends or lovers.)
-That was the reason that China was so grateful to America for throwing this party. That loneliness was thrown off his shoulders with an excuse to leave and see the people he cared about the most. He knew that Russia felt the same way (they had talked about it over video call more than once), and he also knew that America had set up this whole party basically just to see them smile.
He’d never said it, not out loud anyway, but America was notoriously bad at keeping secrets, so China knew anyway. He was glad that he knew. (It almost entirely excused the junk food, which Finland was busy digging into. China had to appreciate the hustle.)
Russia hummed a note and leaned over the chair back a bit more, resting his forehead on the top of China’s head and bringing the other man out of his thoughts. “Would you like me to get you a drink?” He asked, “You seem pretty comfortable there.”
China smiled up at him, pushing his head back in order to not clonk their noses together, “That would be really nice, can you see if he has any good tea?”
“I’ll try,” laughed Russia, pulling away from the chair and nearly crashing into Hungry as she and her girlfriend strode by, “But I dunno if he’s gonna have any real tea,”
“He might!” China called, no longer visible behind the chair back as Russia glanced back at him, “He’s perfect in every other way, this can’t be his only fault!”
Russia shook his head, smiling as the atmosphere of the party drifted in through his ears. Oh how happy he was to be here, finally surrounded by the warmth of other people and the chatter of their voices, and finally being able to fetch one of his boyfriends a drink. (It was a weird thing to want to do, but for him, it felt like it proved that he was really in love, and it felt like it proved that he was really ready to spend life with the two men he called his.)
Suddenly, he spotted a shock of bright blond in the crowd. He knew that a disproportionate amount of male nations had blond hair, but this wasn’t any dumb blond, it was his dumb blond.
“America!” He called, swerving around a gaggle of nordics and a small crowd of female nations, “America do you have any tea?”
“Sure I do dude!” Came the excited response, “Are you the one asking?”
“No I’m not,” Russia answered, shaking his head and shuffling a bit closer to the other nation, “China wants some tea,” he leaned in closer and glanced behind himself, “The good kind,” he whispered, “Do you have any good tea?”
America blinked, and for a moment Russia was scared that his dreams of bringing China a drink wouldn’t be fulfilled, but just as suddenly as he always spoke, Alfred laughed. “Of course I do! I got it just for him, come this way!”
Russia smiled and felt another wave of gratitude for his man, “Thank you Alfred, I’m sure he’ll appreciate that,” he said truthfully, scrambling after America as he led him past the kitchen and into the basement. ‘And I appreciate it too.’
“I’m sure he will,” America agreed, rifling through a few boxes as he seared for the good tea, “But maybe you could make it for him,” he murmured embrasedly, picking out the right box and handing it to Russia, “I, er, I don’t know how to,”
To America’s surprise, Russia’s smile only grew. “Of course!” He nodded, “That’s alright, you all are known for your love of coffee, not tea.”
But before America could properly ask him what the hell he meant by ‘you all’, he was already thanking him and halfway up the stairs. “You’re welcome!” Alfred called after him, heart soaring as he climbed after Russia. He watched as he busily made his way over to the correct cabinets for the teapot and measuring spoons (and ignored how mildly questionable the fact that he knew he way around was. America had reorganized the entire kitchen since either boyfriend had been here last).
It felt good to be appreciated, but it felt even better to help someone achieve something.
- - - - -
China didn’t know when he had gotten pulled into dancing, but he knew that he was having fun. He spun across the carpeted floor, ignoring the way that it burned his toes as he swept dramatically into Americaś arms. (Off to the side, he could hear Russia cheering and clapping as the two danced. It was like they were the only couple to ‘grace’ the hastily cleared living room dance area.)
America grinned and leaned in to kiss him. China however, was not having any of that, and ducked to the side lightheartedly, totally ready to surprise hug as it became his ‘turn’ to give a move. Alfred hugged back, and China couldn’t help but look out to the small crowd in search of his other boyfriend. So it was no surprise that when the song shifted key (whatever track was playing then) China gestured for Russia to come join them.
“It’ll be fun!” He called, unlatching himself from America and making cute little ‘come here’ gestures with his hand. “Come on! Let’s all dance!”
At first Russia shook his head, but slowly he hesitated. They did look like they were having a lot of fun (plus, of course they looked great while doing it). Who was he to pass up an opportunity? So, as the song blurred over the CD player, Russia let himself be pushed into the carpeted area to join his boyfriends.
“This is a good party.” He commented, casually doing a pirouette (even as it 1, didn’t fit the song, and 2, hurt his toes a lot), “Nice music choice too,”
“I wonder who put it on,” America joked, pausing for a moment to let himself rest, “I bet the party thrower would really appreciate a thank you right about now,”
China laughed, spinning his own little circle before jumping up to put his arms around both his boyfriends, “Will this one suffice?” He leaned in closer.
Before America could say or process anything, China had already kissed him. “Now,” he chirped, smiling brightly, “Let’s all hold hands and act like nothing happened,”
“Oh yes,” America agreed, nodding as the song finally began to draw to a close, “That will definitely make that less oddly timed,”
Russia giggled and China rolled his eyes, “Come on, just do it,” he whispered.
“Of course!”