CountryHuman OneShots

RusGer - Boredom - Smut

Just as a quick note: unless you say so, these will all be based on my own designs. They also have human names so I'll list them at the start of each one-shot.

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Vlad (Russia)
Körbl (West Germany)
Joe (America)
Susan (America)
Inglebert (Switzerland. Just Switzerland.)

For Russland sorry for the double ping, I got sick of having three seperate books
Word count: 2853

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Standing at the front door with a bag of bottles in his arms, Vlad would try and keep them all balanced as he watched his companion struggle to open the door due to the slight tremble in his hands. They were all a little angry after that political meeting that they had since they were once again arguing and all of them hated when the humans argued. It meant that all of them had migraines when they left, so Vlad did what any angry Russian would do and buy six bottles of orange juice.

He had had enough of alcohol. 10 years ago, with the help of Körbl and Joe, he had weaned himself off of that horrible substance that had him in a continuous cycle of forgetting his past and grieving over an abusive adopted dictator, and only now that he was sober he was able to improve relationships and learn about Soviet's iron-grip rule. He mainly had Körbl to thank. Sure, Joe was there for him and ended up being a boyfriend, but Körbl...he would go sleepless for weeks just to make sure that he was not sneaking any alcohol. He would inspect the house, and sometimes he reminded Vlad of Soviet (mainly because Körbl was his biological son), but he had to keep remembering that it was for the better. And it was. He could now hold down a job, afford a house. The usual stuff when you have a boyfriend to take care of.

The door opened, and he would follow his best friend inside of the chilly house. It was a good thing, they both loved the cold but because of Joe, he always had the house at horrible temperatures.

"Make yourself at home, V." He gestured around before smirking. "Not that you need an introduction to the place."

"Cheeky German." He wasn't exactly lying though, he knew his house inside and out. He even knew where the handmade secret compartments in the house were, the lock on the door upstairs in the house, and the timetables of the others that came to visit the house and weren't in a high-security apartment block. The doorframes were nearly double the standard height for the tall members of his family, and there was even a perch on the roof. It truly was a house that was modified over the hundreds of years that it has existed, near the centre of Berlin and only just missing being cut through by the wall that wasn't standing anymore.

Throwing the folders onto the kitchen table, he would grab a glass before opening a bottle of orange juice and pouring it into a glass under the not-so-watchful eye of Körbl, who was making himself a big cup of coffee, nearly falling asleep on his feet. Tutting gently and carrying his glass in one hand, he would lift his friend up with the other arm and used his height to guide him to the living room couch to rest for now. He would have to try and carry him upstairs, not that that was going to be a problem. He was very light, and he was certain that those prosthetics of his weighed more than his whole body. Not that that was good.

Körbl had a tendency to forget meals, and although that's okay if you're on target or slightly overweight, he had been forgetting full days of eating. Some very rare weeks as well. There had been a few days where he had to be sent to Inglebert because he was so weak, though those days were (hopefully) in the past. Since Körbl had helped him, he was helping him eat better. He was even building muscle with Vlad, though he had to be careful to not work him too hard.