Rusger Oneshots

Playdate

"Is that so." His father grinned, one corner of his mouth quirked up in a cunning smirk that made Hans laugh again, eyes childishly bright, glinting under the midday sunlight streaming in through the window.

"Look again." Nazi gestured with his chin, smiling as his son squinted his eyes to see further, gasping as the tiny moving dot in the distance turned into a black car, rumbling down their driveway and the gates opening wide for it to pass through.

"It's them!!" He shouted gleefully, rushing away from the window before suddenly turning back around to grab Nazi's hand, dragging him along with all the strength of a five-year-old, already chattering excitedly in anticipation of seeing his friend again.

They stumbled down the stairs, Hans tugging on his hand relentlessly until Nazi finally had enough, growling playfully and scooping him up into his arms, making him squeal, bursting out laughing as they hopped down the last few steps, his father gently putting him back down on the ground.

"Remember, be nice to them. Head high, shoulders straight, behave well, okay?" His father rambled slightly, squatting down to his level and smoothing out any creases in his white shirt, straighten the straps of his suspenders, and brushing his fingers through his pale hair till it looked presentable.

"Yes, Papa." Hans answered dutifully, hands already clasped behind his back. Nazi nodded, quickly going through his own uniform, making sure everything looked pristine, and then standing straight as a board before pausing a bit.

"English, ja." He looked at him quickly, reminding him what language he should be speaking when their foreign guests were here. Hans nodded again, making his father reach out and tuck back a lock of hair that had slipped loose, going back to standing at attention, staring at the front door to their house.

Hans took his place next to him, also waiting in anticipation, glancing over a couple of times before imitating his father's position, drawing himself up as high as he could and holding his breath, excitement held at bay.

The doorbell rang loudly, making Nazi take a deep breath in, putting on a smile and stepping forward to reach for the doorknob. 

"Ah, Soviet! Good day, how was the trip?"

"Relatively smooth, surprisingly." Soviet answered in a voice that just sounded tired, still managing to smile back. "Say hello."

"Good afternoon, sir." Three voices recited in English in perfect unison, and Nazi quickly looked down in surprise, grinning widely. "You don't have to address me like that. Call me Nazi, please."

"Папа says you're a soldier." Ukraine piped up first, staring up into blood red eyes and equally red flag colours. "Yes I am. A commanding officer, if you prefer." He answered with a slight bow, looking quite pleased with himself as he answered the young boy.

Belarus glanced behind him into the house, blinking in surprise at the little face peaking out from behind Nazi, pale eyes wide with shock and awe. She grinned, showing off the large gap in between her teeth where she'd ran too hard into a concrete pole and knocked two teeth out at once, waving to him.

"Come inside! I have drinks prepared." Nazi gestured for all of them to enter the house, crimson eyes looking at his son proudly with silent instructions. That little boy that Belarus saw quickly put on a bright smile, hands clasped behind his back and standing tall.

"Hello, Hans. We meet again." Soviet greeted, reaching out a hand to ruffle the boy's hair and making him laugh. "You're grown. How old are you now?"

"I'm five!" He chirped proudly, turning his attention back to her, curiosity flickering in his eyes. Nazi held out his hand towards a tray of glasses set on a small table, filled with a sweet fruit red coloured drink and chilled with ice cubes.