Handling a Crisis

Chapter Fifty-Three: I Grant One of the Shippers' Wishes

Edit: word fix

Chapter warning: mention of rape (please relax-)

Was America excited? Yes, yes he was. For the second time in two weeks, Russia had a surprise planned for their hangout. Given that Russia's past surprises have all been very good, it was obvious America would look forward to seeing what his crush had in mind.

He watched the world pass by outside Russia's car. Grinning, America turned his head away from the window and looked at Russia. "I know where we're going," he realized.

Russia playfully quirked an eyebrow. "You do?" he asked.

"Yeah! This is the way to your old hideout." America propped his elbow on the car door beside him. "We need to come up with a name for that place. 'Your old hideout' is a bit long, don't you think?"

Russia rolled his eyes. "Alrrright, you kan kome up vith a name forrr it. Vhat do you vant to kall it?"

Humming in thought, America glanced up at the ceiling of the car. Finally, a mischievous smirk split through his face. "I can name it whatever I want?"

"Surrre, vhateverrr makes you happy."

"Which means that you can't change it."

"As long as it's not inapprrroprrriate, zen no, I kan't."

"Okay." America giggled to himself before revealing his answer. "'Our date spot.'"

To his amusement, Russia's grip tightened on the steering wheel as his face reddened ever so slightly. "Merrrik, I'm prrretty surrre zat's longerrr."

"Nope! 'Your old hideout' has fourteen letters, three words, two spaces, and four syllables while 'our date spot' has eleven letters, three words, two spaces, and three syllables. It's shorter. Plus, it sounds better," America explained matter-of-factly.

After a moment of silence, Russia said, "Fine, ve'll kall it ourrr date spot."

America did a tiny fist-pump. "Heck yeah." Winning small jokes like this was an instant boost of serotonin for him.

Russia caught his small smile and snorted. "You dorrrk."

"Hey now, there's no reason for you to call me a whale penis."

Russia reached the end of the road. He parked the car and gave America a bemused grin. "Vhat?"

"What? You didn't know that 'dork' means 'whale penis?'" America patted Russia's shoulder. "You learned something new today."

"Learrrning zat feels like it's one of ze most illegal zings I've done."

"Really now? Out of all the illegal shit you've done, this is what you think feels really illegal?" America teased playfully. "Russia, darlin', there's a lot worse things than that. I mean, you were literally a government spy." He froze when he realized that he had accidentally called Russia "darling." Don't you hate it when that happens?

Much to his dismay, Russia pointed it out. "'Darrrling?'" he laughed.

America poked his cheek as his face flushed from embarrassment. "Hey, shut up. It's a nickname."

Russia took America's hand and kissed his knuckles. "Alrrright, любимый (darling/my love)."

Staring as Russia exited the car, America let out a small puff of air, knowing for sure that he was blushing. He told himself it's just a retaliation shot from Russia for the nickname and that it didn't mean anything. Once he'd calmed down, America got out of the car and walked over to Russia, intertwining their hands. "So, what're we gonna do?"